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3  7  5  C 


THE  PRINCESS  OF  FORGE 


'At  his  figure,  half  hidden  by  smoke,  I  fired  again 


THE 
PRINCESS  OF  FORGE 


BY 

GEORGE  C.  SHEDD 


Illustrated  by 
HOWARD  GILES 


NEW  YORK 

THE  MACAULAY  COMPANY 
1910 


COPYRIGHT,  1910,  BY 
STREET  &  SMITH 


COPYRIGHT,  1910,  BY 
THE  MACAULAY  COMPANY 


THE   PREMIER   PRESS 
HEW   YORK 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I  AN    UNDEVELOPED    PROSPECT      .     .     .11 

II  FORGE 22 

III  THE    BEGINNING    OF    EVENTS     ...  36 

IV  THE  BREWING  OF  TROUBLE  ....  50 
V  FAIR  FIELD  AND  No  FAVOUR     ...  65 

VI  SCOTCH   SECRETS 78 

VII  A  TAUNT  AND  A  BLOW 93 

VIII  FREDERIC,  THE  GENEROUS!    ....  106 
IX  AN    ANCIENT    AND    HONOURABLE    PRO- 
FESSION      119 

X  THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  WOOD    ....  132 

XI  PLAY  AND  COUNTERPLAY 147 

XII  THE  PROSPERITY  OF  THE  WICKED    .      .  162 

XIII  A  PROCESSION  TO  THE  MOUNT     .     .     .  177 

XIV  FORGE    RISES 193 

XV  THE  ONE-ARMED  FISHERMAN'S  TALE  .  206 

XVI  THE  BARGAININGS  OF  A  VILLAIN     .      .  215 

XVII  FIRST  SORTIE  INTO  THE  ENEMY'S  CAMP  232 

XVIII  THE  GENTLE  ART  OF  MAKING  LOVE     .  246 


2138172 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XIX  SECOND  SORTIE  INTO  THE  ENEMY'S  CAMP  258 

XX  BEFORE  THE  TRIBUNAL 274 

XXI  A   BELATED   WARNING 287 

XXII  PRESSED  HOME! 300 

XXIII  A  GHOST  IN  THE  CELLAR     .     .     .     .  316 

XXIV  AT  THE  END  OF  THE  STREET     .     .     .  335 
XXV  STILL  WATERS 345 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

"  At  his  figure,  half  hidden  by  smoke,  I 

fired  again " Frontispiece 

FACING  PAGE 

"  He  went  down  like  an  ox  " 102 

"  Up  and  down  the  slopes  we  went  "     .     .     .     .     no 

"  Woodworth  appeared,  drawing  a  fine  bead  with 

his  revolver " 264 

"  Down  on  his  knees  beside  the  candle  was  the  man 

whom  I  had  come  to  find "     .      .      .      .      i     328 


THE  PRINCESS  OF  FORGE 


CHAPTER  I 

AN  UNDEVELOPED  PROSPECT 

IT  is  time  to  give  a  true  account  of  what  took 
place  at  Forge.  Had  it  not  been  for  the  promi- 
nence of  several  of  the  persons  concerned,  the 
matter  would  never  have  received  so  much  atten- 
tion, and  would  long  ago  have  been  forgotten. 
Because  a  well-known  New  York  name  has  been 
mixed  up  in  the  affair,  public  curiosity  has  been 
tenacious.  When  something  of  the  adventure  be- 
came known,  the  newspapers  made  the  most  of 
it.  They  dealt  in  rumours  of  what  had  occurred, 
as  grotesque  as  Oriental  dreams.  Surmises,  con- 
jectures, explanations,  and  theories  fell  for  a  week 
thick  as  hail;  and  at  pretty  regular  intervals  dur- 
ing the  two  years  since,  it  has  been  the  practice  of 
newspaper  men — perhaps  their  pleasantry — to  in- 
vent a  new  disclosure  or  a  fresh  tale.  And,  I 
protest,  they  do  it  badly. 

The  strangeness  of  what  happened  in  the  se- 
questered circuit  of  Forge  cannot  be  denied;  and 
from  the  first  sight  I  had  of  Douglass'  bare  blond 
head  until  our  last  clattering  ride  down  the  village 
street,  events  transformed  the  rough,  simple  do- 


12         THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

main  to  a  background  against  which  moved  a 
swift  and  shadowed  drama. 

It  falls  on  me  to  open  up  the  whole  box  of  the 
Scotchman's  deeds,  since  of  all  who  were  involved 
I  am  the  best  informed. 

From  the  beginning  of  the  contest,  I  was  at 
Forge ;  my  hand  more  than  once  was  raised  in  its 
forwarding;  and  round  my  person,  it  may  be  said, 
eddied  and  swirled  and  tossed  the  passions  of 
Forge.  Of  these  latter,  then,  this  narrative  will 
have  much  to  do.  Certain  particulars  it  will  not 
be  pleasant  to  write,  where  the  part  I  played  was 
second  best;  but  certain  others,  which  rest  on  how 
I  gave  checkmate  now  and  again  to  one  handsome 
gentleman,  I  shall  relate  with  silent  satisfaction. 

First,  a  word  leading  up  to  Forge.  One  June 
morning,  Ted  Fenton  and  I  were  in  the  univer- 
sity gymnasium,  in  farewell.  We  had  danced  all 
night  at  the  senior  prom,  devoted  ourselves  to 
Ted's  aunt  and  his  pretty  sixteen-year-old  cousin, 
who  had  come  down  to  see  him  graduate;  had 
dawn  tea  with  them  on  the  campus,  in  the  midst 
of  hundreds  of  others,  and  had,  finally,  escorted 
them  away,  as  the  sun's  first  rays  shot  across  the 
grass.  I  was  for  the  minute  head  over  heels  in 
love  with  Ethys,  his  cousin.  She  was  as  sweet 
and  pretty  as  only  sixteen  can  be,  and  I  was 
twenty-two.  And,  then,  Ted  and  I  had  come  to 


AN   UNDEVELOPED   PROSPECT     13 

the  gym  for  a  last  sharp  race  on  the  running 
track,  a  last  two-minute  match  on  the  wrestling 
mat,  and  a  final  swim  in  the  deep,  clear  pool. 

As  my  head  popped  above  the  surface  after  a 
long  dive,  the  notion  to  go  to  Alaska  popped  into 
it.  The  idea  grew  to  a  plan  as  I  dried  myself. 
In  the  mirror,  I  saw  my  figure  reflected;  six  feet 
of  bone  and  muscle,  sparkling  eyes,  teeth  show- 
ing white  in  a  smile;  and  I  was  confident  that  I 
could  give  a  good  account  of  myself  anywhere. 
Alaska  it  should  be,  and  all  at  once  I  laughed 
aloud  joyously. 

"  Don't  be  a  fool,"  said  Ted,  scowling  over  his 
towel,  when  I  had  informed  him  of  my  project. 
"You'll  do  nothing  of  the  kind,  but  come  yacht- 
ing with  me,  as  we've  planned." 

"  Can't  be  done  this  year,  Teddy,"  I  answered. 

"What  rot!" 

"  I'm  off  to  make  a  stroke  of  fortune." 

"You'd  look  pretty  at  that!" 

"And  Alaska's  the  spot.  What  could  be  bet- 
ter? I've  not  a  relative  in  the  world,  no  money 
to  speak  of,  a  passable  education  as  an  engineer, 
a  fine  appetite,  and  two  stout  legs — that's  exactly 
the  stock  in  trade  for  the  Golden  Land  up  yon- 
der." 

"Lovely,"  he  scoffed.  "But  you  promised 
aunt  and  Ethys  to  be  one  of  our  party." 


i4        THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

So  I  had,  and  the  sudden  thought  that  my 
scheme  involved  the  abandonment  of  a  month 
with  her — though  I  had  known  her  but  thirty-six 
hours — made  me  pause.  Then  I  shrugged  my 
naked  shoulders. 

"  Ethys  will  find  a  hundred  other  beaus  between 
flashes  of  her  pretty  eyes,"  I  said. 

"And  think  of  the  sport  we'll  have." 

"Oh,  I  reckon  on  finding  sport  up  there,"  I 
replied  cheerfully. 

For  ten  minutes  Ted  argued  angrily,  but  finally 
gave  it  up. 

"  Go  ahead — and  I  hope  you  get  frapped 
proper,"  he  growled. 

Well,  go  I  did.  Alaska  at  that  time  was  not 
so  new  as  it  had  been  two  years  before,  when  the 
first  marvellous  stories  of  Dawson  and  Forty 
Mile  were  coming  down  by  every  boat.  Yet  it 
was  still  alluring,  and  word  was  just  then  flying 
of  the  golden  sands  of  Nome. 

It  was  six  years  before  I  saw  Ted  again — three 
in  the  frozen  North,  one  in  Mexico,  and  the  last 
two  in  South  America.  Nor  had  I  anything  in 
particular  to  complain  of.  My  reputation  as  a 
mining  engineer  was  a  solid  and  growing  one.  I 
was  now  twenty-eight,  I  could  shoot  straight  with 
either  hand,  ride  any  horse  that  could  be  sad- 
dled, had  gone  a  week  without  food  and  nearly 


AN  UNDEVELOPED   PROSPECT     15 

as  long  without  water,  kept  a  cool  head  in  one 
or  two  dangerous  corners,  and  played  a  steady 
game  of  poker — such  were  my  accomplishments. 

On  giving  up  my  last  billet,  I  sailed  from 
Buenos  Ayres  to  Marseilles,  spent  a  month  in 
Paris,  and  at  the  end  of  that  time  took  passage 
for  New  York.  There  I  leisurely  considered 
which  of  three  mining  offers  I  should  accept. 

While  my  affairs  were  in  this  state,  I  made  my 
way  one  afternoon  into  the  suite  of  offices  where 
Ted  was  to  be  found.  He  met  me  at  the  thresh- 
old of  his  own  private  room,  and  seized  my  hand. 

"  I  swear  it's  an  age  since  I  saw  you ! "  he  ex- 
claimed. "And  the  fortune,  Jack?" 

"  Neither  fortune  nor  frostbite,  Ted." 

"  To  have  you  walk  in  on  me — what  luck !  I've 
been  wiring  round  half  the  world  after  you." 

"Oho!    What  for?"  I  asked. 

"We  want  you.  Where  were  you  hiding?  I 
couldn't  get  word  of  you,  north  or  south.  Hang 
it,  man,  you're  brown  as  an  Indian,  and  hard  as 
iron."  He  thumped  my  arms  with  his  fist.  "  I 
envy  you,  Jack." 

"  And  you're  soft  as  butter,  Ted." 

"I  know  it — but  what  the  devil  am  I  to  do? 
A  fellow  can't  keep  in  condition  in  a  city." 

The  truth  was  he  was  not  so  very  fat;  it  was 
rather  a  promise  than  the  reality.  Otherwise,  I 


1 6        THE  PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

noted  little  change  in  my  friend,  except  that  he 
now  wore  a  clipped,  business-like,  brown  mous- 
tache. 

For  an  hour,  we  chatted.  He  would  have  the 
tale  of  my  roving,  while  I  was  equally  desirous 
of  learning  his  adventures  in  the  financial  whirl- 
pool. For  he  was  now  hand  in  glove  with  his 
uncle. 

"  Come  in,  and  I'll  introduce  you,"  he  said. 
And  he  led  the  way  into  another  room. 

Every  one  nowadays  has  heard  of  James  Fen- 
ton.  The  family  of  which  he  was  at  present  the 
ruling  head,  and  Ted  the  younger  scion,  had  been 
socially  high  in  New  York  for  three  generations. 
Its  fortune  had  always  been  considerable,  and, 
under  the  direction  of  James  Fenton,  had  become 
famous.  In  railroads,  steamship  lines,  and  mines, 
it  was  a  controlling  force,  sought,  consulted, 
feared.  Even  in  the  out-of-the-way  corners  where 
I  had  been,  there  had  echoed  stories  of  its  growth 
and  power. 

A  grey-eyed,  grey-moustached,  quiet  man  shook 
hands  with  me — a  man  with  strong  fingers,  a  long 
nose,  and  a  heavy,  resolute  jaw.  At  first  sight,  I 
believed  what  I  had  heard  of  his  resource  and 
inflexible  will. 

"I  knew  your  father  and  mother,"  he  said. 
"  Both  were  my  friends.  I'm  glad  to  meet  you." 


AN   UNDEVELOPED   PROSPECT     17 

"  Pure  luck  brought  him,"  Ted  declared. 

"Well,  we  want  you,"  said  Mr.  Fenton. 
"Forge — you've  heard  of  it? — is  without  a  man- 
ager. You're  the  man  we've  picked  on." 

"Are  you  engaged  to  any  company?"  Ted 
inquired. 

"  I'm  considering  a  couple  of  offers." 

"Then  consider  them  no  longer,"  Mr.  Fenton 
broke  in  impatiently.  "  How  old  are  you — 
thirty?" 

"  Twenty-eight." 

He  ran  his  eyes  over  me  sharply  for  a  minute. 

"  Forge  is  one  of  the  biggest  properties  in 
America,"  he  stated. 

"I  know  it." 

"Tell  me  about  that  Mexican  riot." 

"  They  struck,  shot  up  the  camp,  tried  to  dyna- 
mite the  power  house.  I  threw  out  guards,  with 
Winchesters.  We  killed  a  dozen  or  so  of  them. 
That  was  all." 

;'  You're  our  manager,  Mr.  Maitland.  Go  to- 
night to  Forge — to-morrow,  at  the  latest."  He 
waved  his  hand  toward  Ted.  "  Draw  up  a  satis- 
factory contract.  Good  afternoon."  He  turned 
to  his  desk,  but  swung  about  almost  instantly,  fix- 
ing on  me  a  level,  noncommittal  look.  "You 
may  need  Winchesters  out  there." 

Ted  and  I  spent  the  next  hour  convassing  the 


1 8        THE  PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

matter.  Forge  consisted  of  extensive  placer  beds 
and  numerous  ledges,  containing  ore  bodies  which 
had  been  developed  far  enough  to  determine  their 
richness.  Water  for  the  placer  was  obtained  from 
Forge  River,  being  forced  up  the  mountainside 
into  flumes  by  means  of  turbines.  Altogether,  it 
was  a  mine  of  the  first  order;  its  management 
would  place  me  at  once  among  the  foremost  en- 
gineers; and  as  I  thought  of  it,  a  thrill  of  satis- 
faction ran  through  my  mind. 

"  You  see,  we've  been  keeping  track  of  you, 
though  you  didn't  know  it,"  Ted  explained. 
"Our  manager  out  there  was  released  last  week, 
and  uncle  named  you  for  Forge  immediately.  An 
assistant  is  in  charge  at  present,  a  chap  named 
Douglass." 

By  five  o'clock  we  had  closed  the  business,  a 
clerk  had  drawn  the  contracts,  and  we  had  signed 
them.  And  I  departed,  accompanied  by  Ted,  to 
pack  my  trunks. 

"What's  this  about  needing  guns  there?-"  I 
asked,  as  we  waited  for  an  elevator. 

Ted  grinned,  then  grew  grave. 

"  Something's  wrong  with  Forge,"  he  said, 
"and  we  don't  know  what  it  is.  Trouble — that 
is  why  we  picked  you." 

"Pleasant,  I'm  sure." 

"Well,  it's  this  way.     The  gold  is  there,  but 


AN   UNDEVELOPED    PROSPECT     19 

we  don't  get  it  all.  It  may  be  the  men,  or  some- 
thing else.  Our  manager  last  fall  was  killed  by  a 
landslide — and  there  was  a  queer  thing  about  that 
which  has  never  been  explained.  Then  Rogers, 
the  man  you're  succeeding,  came  up  short,  though 
he  swears  he's  innocent.  And,  too,  the  yield 
hasn't  produced  this  spring  as  it  should.  On  the 
surface,  Forge  is  peaceful,  but  underneath,  things 
are  wrong — dead  wrong.  We  can't  put  a  finger 
on  it,  but  we  feel  it." 

"  I  see,"  said  I,  though  I  didn't  see  anything. 

"There's  a  sort  of  fatality  hanging  over  the 
office  of  manager.  It  has  ended  two  men." 

"  I  don't  believe  in  '  fatalities,' "  I  remarked. 

"Well,  I  don't  know." 

"The  kind  I've  seen,  Ted,  generally  walked 
on  two  legs." 

"Take  care  of  yourself,  anyway,  old  fellow." 

"  I  promise  not  to  loiter  under  a  landslide,"  I 
said,  laughing,  "  or  lose  any  gold." 

We  stepped  into  the  elevator,  and  shot  down 
to  the  door  of  the  building.  Outside,  we  sepa- 
rated. 

"  You  take  dinner  with  me,  remember,"  were 
his  parting  words.  "  Meet  me  at  the  Waldorf  at 
seven.  Your  train  leaves  somewhere  about  mid- 
night, so  we'll  have  plenty  of  time." 

He  stepped  briskly  across  to  the  curb,  where  a 


20        THE   PRINCESS  OF  FORGE 

big  touring  car  waited.  The  chauffeur  was  fuss- 
ing with  the  levers;  behind  him  sat  a  person  at 
whom  I  cast  a  casual  glance. 

From  a  glance  it  became  a  steady  gaze.  Does 
any  one  but  a  saint  have  visions?  For,  surely,  it 
was  a  vision  I  beheld.  Do  not  ask  me  to  describe 
her  hat,  or  give  the  colour  of  her  veil.  I  remem- 
ber naught  about  them,  save  that  they  were  some- 
thing delicate,  a  harmonious  frame  for  the  face  I 
saw.  The  oval  of  the  latter  was  perfect;  there 
was  a  glimpse  of  thick,  brown  hair,  fine  and  shin- 
ing; her  cheeks  were  smooth  and  clear  and  faintly 
glowing;  her  eyes,  which  looked  my  way,  sparkled; 
there  was  just  the  slightest  delicious  upward  hint 
in  the  nose;  and  beneath  it,  lips  cherry  red,  and 
now  curved  in  a  welcoming  smile.  It  was  a 
vision,  if  ever  there  was  one — a  beauteous,  radi- 
ant, engaging  vision,  or  my  name  is  not  Jack 
Maitland. 

Next  instant,  the  car  slid  away,  and  the  face 
was  gone,  and  I  stood  staring  after  it,  like  a 
schoolboy. 

I  suppose  it  is  because  I  am  no  saint  that,  five 
minutes  afterward,  I  had  forgotten  my  vision.  A 
robed  and  roped  dreamer  in  a  monastery  cell 
would  have  been  more  faithful,  but  I  was  neither 
robed  nor  in  a  cell,  and  I  had  moving  blood  in 


AN   UNDEVELOPED   PROSPECT    21 

my  veins,  and  I  passed  other  bright  eyes  on  my 
way  uptown.     Even  the  sight  of  Ted  that  even- 
ing did  not  remind  me  to  question  him  concerning 
the  lady  in  the  tonneau. 
That  vexes  me  somewhat  now. 


CHAPTER  II 

FORGE 

ON  the  evening  of  the  third  day  after  departing 
from  New  York,  I  stepped  from  the  train  to  the 
depot  platform  at  Cold  Springs — strange  mis- 
nomer!— which  is  in  the  desert.  With  baggage 
to  follow,  I  took  horse  at  dawn  next  morning, 
and  crossed  a  ten-mile  stretch  of  sagebrush. 
Fifty  miles  of  mountains  succeeded  this,  and  both 
my  horse  and  I  were  weary  when  we  came  in 
sight  of  Forge. 

Picture  a  river  sweeping  in  a  half-circle  about 
the  base  of  a  mountain,  a  granite  pile  steep  and 
precipitous  and  gloomy,  that  towered  straight  up 
to  the  clouds  two  thousand  feet  or  more  above  the 
water,  topped  by  a  huge  crown  of  rock,  shaped  to 
the  likeness  of  an  anvil;  across  from  it,  an  encir- 
cling range  of  low  mountains,  their  lower  sur- 
faces laced  with  ditches  and  flumes,  and  their 
river-washed  foundations  pitted  and  scarred  where 
the  gold-bearing  gravel  had  been  ripped  out;  and 
a  mile  or  so  to  the  west,  down  the  canon,  a  strag- 
gling town.  This  is  Forge. 

22 


FORGE  23 

And  such  was  the  sight  that  opened  before  me, 
as  my  horse  reached  the  top  of  the  last  hill,  and 
began  to  descend.  The  great  rock  loomed  up  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  stream,  with  an  impres- 
siveness  far  too  profound  for  words.  At  its  foot, 
the  river  flowed  heavy  and  turgid  with  its  June 
flood  of  melted  snows,  every  hillside  gutter  ran 
noisily,  and  down  in  the  placer  beds  the  twenty- 
foot  nozzles  spouted  their  streams  under  full 
pressure.  Men  were  moving  about,  spray  and  dirt 
were  flying,  work  was  proceeding  steadily.  This 
part  of  the  scene  at  once  seized  my  interest;  and, 
determining  to  have  a  look  at  things  in  operation, 
I  swung  my  horse's  head  toward  one  of  the  pits. 

As  it  turned  out,  I  arrived  at  just  the  right  in- 
stant to  witness  a  lively  and  illuminating  incident. 
Half  a  dozen  yards  from  where  I  pulled  rein,  one 
of  the  pipes  had  sprung  a  leak,  and  water  poured 
forth  in  a  small  torrent. 

Several  hulking  fellows  were  striving,  unsuc- 
cessfully, to  force  the  parts  together,  when  all  at 
once  a  man  whom  I  had  not  perceived  leaped 
lightly  down  a  heap  of  rocks. 

He  halted,  and  examined  the  break.  His  fig- 
ure was  tall,  slender,  and  small-waisted.  His 
dress,  considering  the  business  in  hand,  was  un- 
usual— a  pair  of  khaki  riding  breeches,  a  flannel 
coat,  and  a  linen  stock.  He  stood  straight  as  a 


24        THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

soldier,  his  bare  head  was  yellow,  as  was  his  mous- 
tache, waxed  to  fine  needle  points;  and  I  saw 
plainly  the  line  of  a  scar  showing  white  through 
the  sunburn  of  his  cheek.  He  was  a  handsome 
man,  but  I  made  up  my  mind  instantly  that  his 
face  was  too  narrow  and  his  eyes  too  roving. 

He  stood  for  perhaps  half  a  minute,  beating 
his  puttee  with  the  riding  crop  he  carried,  then 
burst  out  in  a  string  of  hot,  biting  curses,  until, 
at  last,  the  men  turned  toward  him,  their  faces 
glowing  with  dull,  mutinous  anger. 

"  I'll  take  that  from  no  man,"  said  one. 

"You  take  that — and  this!"  The  slender 
speaker's  fist  shot  against  the  miner's  mouth. 
The  fellow  staggered  back,  bleeding. 

"Are  you  next,  Pete  Johnson?  Or  you,  Mor- 
gan?" The  questioner's  blue  eyes  swung  evilly 
from  one  to  the  other.  "Then  get  back  to  your 
pipe." 

Back  they  went,  like  lambs,  and,  presently,  their 
master  came  toward  me. 

"What's  your  business  here?"  he  demanded. 

"Why,  observation,  at  present,"  I  answered 
pleasantly. 

He  produced  a  case,  extracted  a  cigarette,  and 
lighted  it,  eyeing  me  the  while. 

"Where's  your  sheep?"  he  asked. 

Now,  that  was  insult  I  did  not  care  to  accept, 


FORGE  25 

a  sheep  herder  being,  as  every  one  is  aware,  as 
low  as  the  lowest. 

"You  should  know,"  I  replied.  "The  Scotch 
are  bred  among  the  muttons,  aren't  they?" 

His  face  went  a  bright  red  with  anger. 

"  Come  down  on  the  ground,  like  a  man,"  he 
cried,  tossing  away  his  cigarette. 

"  Not  now,  thank  you,"  I  smiled.  "  I'm  tired, 
and  looking  for  a  bath.  We'll  make  a  better  ac- 
quaintance, I  imagine.  Maitland's  my  name." 

"Oh!"  said  he. 

"And  you're  Mr.  Douglass,  if  I'm  not  mis- 
taken in  my  guess." 

He  did  not  answer,  standing  for  a  full  minute, 
and  looking  through  half-closed  lids  at  me. 

"  I'll  ride  on  to  Forge  House,"  I  said. 

"Well,  I'll  go  along,"  he  answered,  shrugging 
his  shoulders.  "  I'll  be  with  you  as  soon  as  I  get 
Duke.  By  the  way,  did  you  see  anything  of  a 
Frenchman  headed  in  this  direction?  No?" 

Duke,  his  horse,  which  he  brought  from  a 
copse  in  a  draw,  was  a  beauty  and  vixen  in  one. 
When  Douglass  put  foot  in  stirrup,  it  snapped 
at  him  with  bared  teeth.  When  he  touched  the 
saddle,  it  made  a  plunge  that  would  have  unseated 
a  less  expert  rider.  It  was  a  quick,  clean-limbed, 
high-spirited  mount,  and  as  sure-footed  as  a  goat 
among  the  stones. 


26        THE   PRINCESS   OF  FORGE 

"  Fenton  wired  that  you  were  on  the  way," 
Douglass  confessed,  as  we  started.  This  was  his 
only  remark  during  the  mile.  At  last,  as  we  ap- 
proached the  village,  he  broke  out:  "Why,  he's 
only  a  long-legged  boy" — I  was  but  five  years 
his  junior — "  and  to  be  set  over  me,  now  that's  a 
shame ! " 

Neither  tone  nor  words  could  be  borne.  I 
pulled  up  short. 

"  Let  us  understand  one  another,  Frederic 
Douglass,"  I  said  firmly.  ''You  are  saying  too 
much  or  too  little.  I  didn't  like  your  speech  back 
yonder,  and  I  don't  like  it  now.  From  now  on 
I'm  manager  of  this  camp,  mark  that.  I'm  long- 
legged,  as  you  say;  I'm  also  long-armed,  and  I'm 
man  enough  to  be  master,  if  it  comes  to  that. 
You've  a  position  here,  to  keep  or  leave,  as  you 
please.  But  I  shall  not  tolerate " 

"  Tolerate ! "  said  he,  his  eyes  flashing. 

"  Tolerate — you  got  the  word  perfectly.  I've 
full  powers  here.  Are  you  planning  to  leave 
Forge?" 

"No." 

"Then  I  expect  you  to  be  a  loyal  assistant  of 
mine  while  I'm  in  charge.  Is  that  plain?" 

"Yes." 

"Very  well,  we'll  ride  on."  And  I  touched 
spur  to  my  horse. 


FORGE  27 

There  was  but  one  street  in  the  town,  and  along 
it  houses  stood  pretty  regularly  on  either  hand. 
Some  two  hundred  people  comprised  its  popula- 
tion, nearly  all  being  in  the  employ  of  the  com- 
pany. For  the  most  part,  it  was  a  barren,  stony 
community,  no  grass  plots  or  trees  about  the 
dwellings.  In  the  centre  of  the  town  were  three 
larger  buildings,  half  store  and  half  saloon,  sit- 
ting side  by  side,  and  sharing  each  other's  com- 
pany, if  not  profits. 

As  we  entered  the  street,  a  girl  came  out  of  one 
of  the  houses  and  stepped  into  the  road.  A  heavy 
black  braid  fell  down  her  back,  and  her  figure  was 
slim  and  dark  and  graceful,  possessed  of  an  in- 
definable languor.  In  contrast  to  her  delicate 
olive  pallor  were  her  large,  dusky,  lustrous  eyes. 
She  was  young,  possibly  seventeen,  and  moved 
with  a  sort  of  swaying  bend  of  her  hips. 

Douglass  halted,  as  did  I,  and  they  spoke  in 
Spanish,  supposing  I  did  not  understand. 

"Who  is  this,  Frederic?" 

"The  new  manager." 

"And  you  are  not  to  have  the  position?" 

"Not  at  present." 

"  Come  to  me  this  evening,  caro." 

"  I  may  be  delayed." 

'Two — three  days  it  has  been  since  you  came. 
I  will  sing  to  you." 


2&        THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

"Well,  I'll  see." 

Then  he  pushed  his  horse  nearer  her,  bent  for- 
ward in  his  saddle,  and  they  talked  low  and  ear- 
nestly, her  large,  glowing  eyes  fixed  on  his.  With 
a  final  nod,  he  straightened  up  and  said  good- 
bye. 

As  we  passed  on  up  the  street,  I  discovered  his 
eyes  fixed  on  me  speculatively. 

"A  pretty  child,"  he  remarked. 

"  One  old  enough  to  value  attention,"  I  replied 
drily. 

"  By  that  you  mean  mine,  I  venture." 

"Why,  yes." 

"  Oh,  most  women  do." 

"  You  are  fortunate.  And  she  is  certainly  charm- 
ing, and  would  make  an  attractive  wife " 

"  Wife !  Who's  talking  about  wives !  I'm  not 
the  wiving  kind,  if  you  must  know.  Now,  a 
sweetheart  here  and  there,  as  one  goes  about  the 
world " 

"  I'm  damned  if  I  like  your  morals  1 "  I  ex- 
claimed, in  disgust. 

'*  Well,  it's  a  philosophy  to  take  profit  by,"  he 
answered  coolly. 

His  sulkiness  had  vanished  now,  and  he  rattled 
on  at  a  great  rate  of  women  and  the  world  and 
himself.  He  was  a  jaunty,  confident,  uncon- 
cerned, reckless  scamp,  if  he  was  to  be  believed, 


FORGE  29 

who  had  a  fine  cosmopolitan  taste  in  matters  per- 
taining to  love,  liquor,  and  language. 

"  Here's  Forge  House,"  he  said,  pointing  for- 
ward with  his  crop. 

It  surmounted  a  knoll  a  short  quarter  of  a  mile 
beyond  the  west  limit  of  the  town,  an  imposing 
stone  building  of  Queen  Anne  architecture.  Solid, 
rambling,  deep-windowed,  and  grey,  it  over- 
looked both  village  and  river,  and  faced  the 
looming  brown  front  of  Anvil  Rock.  From  its 
portico,  the  knoll  sloped  to  the  stream,  a  hundred 
yards  away,  where  stood  the  turbine  house,  con- 
taining half  a  dozen  turbines,  to  force  water  up 
the  great  steel  pipe  to  the  flume  on  the  mountain- 
side. In  a  dip  at  the  rear,  I  saw  two  or  three 
outbuildings  and  stables. 

Since  Forge  had  existed,  now  some  twenty 
years,  it  had  been  known  as  Forge  House,  and  in 
it  had  dwelt  the  company's  managers,  one  after 
another.  From  it  had  issued  the  mandate  which 
directed  the  destiny  of  the  camp,  until  the  camp 
had  come  to  consider  it  symbolic  of  the  company, 
and  for  that  reason  it  was  held  in  high  respect, 
if  not  in  awe. 

We  were  met  at  the  door  by  a  Japanese  serv- 
ant, who  took  our  horses.  His  own  brother,  if 
faces  count,  awaited  us  inside,  with  a  tray,  on 
which  were  two  tinkling  glasses. 


30        THE   PRINCESS   OF  FORGE 

"  I've  taught  them  what  they  should  know," 
Douglass  said.  "  Man,  you  should  have  seen 
them  when  I  came." 

I  found  the  interior  comfortable.  In  one  end 
of  the  house  was  the  office,  and  back  of  it  a  li- 
brary, which  had  many  books,  a  few  fine  pictures, 
and  numerous  bearskin  rugs.  The  dining-room 
had  plenty  of  cut  glass,  and  a  fully  stocked  side- 
board— the  cellar,  my  Scotch  friend  informed  me, 
was  his  own  ward  and  care,  he  having  a  remark- 
able leaning  for  choice  vintages.  Altogether  I 
was  surprised,  and  was  only  able  to  account  for 
so  elaborate  a  house,  when  Douglass  explained 
that  it  had  been  a  sort  of  summer  home  of  the 
Fentons. 

"You  may  find  it  a  bit  dull,  being  fresh  from 
the  fleshpots,"  the  Scotchman  said,  "but  that  will 
pass.  Now,  Togo  will  show  you  your  rooms, 
where  you  can  tumble  into  a  tub.  Then  we'll 
have  dinner." 

That  evening  the  pair  of  us  were  smoking  in 
the  library,  and  discussing  Forge  affairs,  when  my 
companion  suddenly  jumped  up,  and  left  the  room. 
In  five  minutes  he  reappeared,  carrying  a  small, 
but  heavy,  canvas  sack. 

"Treasure!  Old  Rogers  went  off  and  left  me 
never  a  figure  of  the  safe  combination,"  he  ex- 
plained, dumping  three  dull  yellow  bricks,  like 


FORGE  31 

paper  weights,  on  the  table.  "A  stupid  beggar 
he  was,  and  a  good  riddance.  I've  had  this  gold 
on  my  hands  and  conscience  the  past  fortnight." 
And  he  piled  the  blocks  one  on  another.  "  Twenty 
pounds,  if  an  ounce;  forty-five  hundred  dollars." 

"Where  did  you  keep  it?"  I  asked,  curious. 

"You'd  never  guess.  In  a  case  of  empty  bot- 
tles, with  a  couple  of  full  cases  on  top,"  he  said, 
with  a  burst  of  laughter.  "Thieves  would  have 
drunk  through  a  deal  of  whiskey  to  find  it."  He 
flung  his  arms  on  the  table,  and  looked  at  me, 
with  bright,  restless  eyes.  "  My  boy,  what  a  week 
we  could  have  with  this  stuff  in  Paris — or 
Vienna ! " 

"To  be  sure,"  I  agreed. 

"Two  weeks,  and  we'd  be  there,"  he  said, 
speaking  rapidly. 

"Well?" 

"Now,  if  we  split  the  dust " 

I  rose,  brushed  an  ash  from  my  lapel,  and 
looked  down  at  him. 

"Which  we  won't.  We'll  lock  it  up  instead. 
I  fear  we're  touching  forbidden  topics,  Mr. 
Douglass." 

He  glanced  up,  with  a  grimace. 

"You  talk  like  a  Glasgow  Presbyterian.  Do 
you  think  I  propose  robbery  ?  You  have  no  imag- 
ination." 


32         THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

"Oh,  my  imagination's  all  right — it's  working 
now."  And  I  smiled  again. 

"On  what  is  it  working?"  he  asked,  and  fin- 
gered a  point  of  his  moustache. 

"Why,  as  to  whether  you're  a  safe  man  for 
Forge.  I'm  wondering." 

"  That  is  as  good  as  calling  me  a  thief !  "  He 
was  becoming  excited,  and  had  risen  to  his  feet. 

"  By  no  means." 

"  And  you  not  yet  twelve  hours  here !  This  is 
too  much."  He  struck  his  palm  on  his  thigh. 
"Talk  out  plain,  will  you?" 

"  Neither  you  nor  I  can  risk  dreaming  of  spend- 
ing company  gold,"  I  said  quietly.  "  It's  been 
my  experience,  Douglass,  that  no  man's  safe  from 
temptation;  therefore,  he'd  do  well  to  confine  his 
thoughts.  There's  no  occasion  for  you  to  take 
offence." 

"  You  have  a  rough  tongue,"  said  he. 

"  Because  we've  need  to  go  carefully,  my  friend. 
We  have  the  example  of  Rogers,  whose  chair  is 
not  yet  cold,  to  bear  in  mind." 

With  that,  we  separated,  he  to  go  on  his  own 
business,  and  I  to  lock  up  the  gold. 

In  the  course  of  the  next  week,  I  learned  more 
of  this  man  Rogers,  who  had  failed  in  his  trust 
as  manager.  It  had  become  known  in  the  camp 
that  he  had  gone  away  under  a  cloud,  and  the 


FORGE  33 

miners  now  admitted  freely  that  more  gold  had 
come  out  of  the  gravel  than  had  gone  into  the 
company's  pocket.  Perhaps  they  were  the  more 
bitter  because  Rogers  had  been  a  common  miner 
like  themselves,  climbing  into  the  superintendency 
by  slow  steps. 

One  good  word,  however,  was  spoken  for  him. 
There  lived  in  Forge  an  old  partner  of  his,  a 
drunken,  gossipy,  quarrelsome  fellow,  who  had 
lost  an  arm  in  the  company's  service,  and  was  a 
pensioner.  His  loyalty  was  divided  between  the 
company  and  the  absent,  fallen  Rogers. 

On  the  fourth  or  fifth  day  after  my  arrival,  he 
entered  the  office,  and  soon  was  wagging  on  his 
favourite  subject. 

"  And  I  loved  him,"  he  said,  almost  weeping, 
for  he  was  pretty  full  of  whiskey.  "  He's  gone, 
driven  away,  and  this  blue-eyed  divil  did  it. 
He'll  have  the  best  of  ye,  too,  if  ye're  not 
watchin'.  A  blackleg  he  is,  and  it's  Kelly  says 
it." 

"See  here,"  I  said.  "I'm  not  altogether  a 
baby,  and  I  guess  I  can  look  after  myself;  but 
whether  or  no,  I  want  you  to  let  my  assistant's 
name  alone.  Understand?" 

He  got  out  upon  the  avenue,  where  he  shook 
his  stump  my  way. 

"He'll  be  too  much  for  ye;  he'll  be  trickin'  ye, 


34        THE   PRINCESS  OF  FORGE 

like  the  rest,  to  your  sorrow.  He's  brought  a 
black  hour  to  Forge."  And  he  went  off  down  to 
the  stores,  to  wet  his  prophecy. 

During  the  next  month  there  was  plenty  to 
occupy  me.  Douglass  proved  a  good  second,  and 
between  us  we  kept  the  placer  moving  at  a  driving 
pace. 

One  disturbing  incident  there  was,  when  a 
dozen  miners  from  a  neighbouring  camp,  some 
forty  miles  over  the  mountains,  came  to  Forge; 
they  had  struck  for  higher  wages,  dynamited  a 
shaft,  and  departed.  A  more  reckless,  impudent 
band  I  had  never  seen,  and  after  a  two-days' 
drunk,  during  which  they  attempted  to  alienate 
my  miners,  I  ordered  them  out  of  Forge.  They 
went,  jeering  my  name,  and  swearing  they  would 
come  back  again. 

One  day  the  Frenchman,  concerning  whom  my 
assistant  had  inquired,  put  in  an  appearance.  Up 
he  came  to  the  door  of  the  house,  fat  and  shiny 
and  bowing.  The  meeting  between  him  and 
Douglass  was  brief  but  familiar,  and  the  latter 
again  mentioned  that  he  was  an  expert  machinist. 
We  talked  the  matter  over,  the  Frenchman  gently 
fingering  his  pointed  beard,  and  listening. 

"  D'Urville  will  take  the  rooms  over  the  shop," 
said  his  sponsor. 

Next  day  he  was  established,  slipping  as  easily 


FORGE  35 

and  unobtrusively  into  the  life  of  Forge  as  does 
a  plump  fowl  into  its  coop. 

It  was  not  until  the  Scotchman  and  I  came  to* 
make  our  trip  down-  to  Cold  Springs  with  a  ship- 
ment of  gold  that  real  events  began. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  BEGINNING  OF  EVENTS 

IT  had  always  been  the  custom  for  managers 
themselves  to  carry  the  gold  down  to  Cold 
Springs,  at  irregular  intervals,  for  safety.  I  saw 
no  reason  to  change  this  plan.  On  the  day  I 
selected  to  make  the  trip,  Douglass  was  to  go 
with  me,  as  the  shipment  was  larger  than  usual, 
and  deserved  double  protection.  Friday  morn- 
ing was  the  day  decided  upon  to  make  the  start, 
so  on  Thursday  evening  I  added  the  placer's  out- 
put for  the  day,  and  weighed  up  the  whole 
amount. 

I  stared  for  a  minute,  fingered  the  balance,  and 
reweighed  it.  A  second  time  I  read  the  figures, 
then  stared  again.  Incredulously  I  gazed  at  the 
gold. 

It  had  shrunk! 

The  fact  smote  me  like  a  blow.  A  sudden 
dampness  broke  out  on  my  brow,  my  throat  went 
dry,  a  chill  settled  like  frost  about  my  heart. 
Was  the  same  fate  that  had  reached  Rogers  to 
overtake  me?  For  gold  to  be  missing — it  was 

36 


THE   BEGINNING  OF  EVENTS     37 

absurd,  preposterous !  Surely,  my  eyes  had  played 
me  a  trick.  With  a  shaking  hand,  I  again  totalled 
the  daily  records  of  the  placer  product,  then  flung 
down  the  pencil.  I  stood  like  a  man  of  stone. 
The  stuff  was  short;  four  pounds  were  gone. 
Nine  hundred  dollars!  And  I  was  accountable! 
Where?  When?  How?  In  stunned  perplexity, 
I  could  find  no  answer. 

All  the  stories  of  gold  stealing  I  had  heard 
flashed  through  my  brain — remelting,  sweating 
the  retort  metal,  manipulating  false  weights.  I 
seized  one  brick  after  another,  and  examined  them 
in  breathless  haste.  Each  was  as  I  had  taken  it 
from  the  crucible  with  my  own  hands.  On  each 
was  the  stamp  as  I  had  hammered  it.  :Yet  some 
of  the  gold  had  vanished. 

Finally,  my  self-possession  returned.  I  divided 
the  shipment,  fifty  pounds  to  a  pile,  and  sealed 
the  two  bags.  As  I  laid  down  the  stick  of  green 
sealing  wax  and  blew  out  the  candle,  I  became 
aware  that  the  door  leading  into  the  great  hall 
was  open.  Swift  as  thought,  I  whipped  a  revolver 
out  of  a  drawer,  and  leaped  across  the  room.  For 
in  the  dim  shadow  of  the  draperies  that  hung  in 
the  hall,  I  distinguished  the  outline  of  a  man's 
figure.  The  Scotchman  stepped  forth. 

"  Oh,  it's  you,"  I  said. 

He  looked  past  me  into  the  office. 


38         THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

"You're  careless,  Maitland,  to  handle  that 
stuff  with  the  window  shades  up." 

"The  window  shades?" 

"  I  saw  a  face  peering  in  at  you." 

"What  sort  of  face?"  I  inquired.  For,  some- 
how, his  words  did  not  ring  quite  true. 

"A  white  face.  Take  care,  my  dear  fellow,  or 
some  prowler  will  be  tempted  to  take  a  pot  shot  at 
you,  and  loot  the  room." 

"  Perhaps  you're  right,"  I  said. 

He  followed  me  into  the  office,  and  carefully 
drew  the  shades,  over  which  he  had  displayed  so 
much  anxiety.  I  placed  books  and  bags  in  the 
safe,  closed  the  door,  and  spun  the  knob. 

"  Four  short.  I  thought "  He  brushed 

his  lean  brown  hand  across  his  mouth,  as  if  to 
catch  back  the  uttered  words. 

I  seated  myself  on  the  corner  of  the  long  table, 
and  folded  my  arms. 

"What  is  short?"  Tasked. 

"  Why,  I  thought — I  saw  that "  For  once, 

his  ready  presence  of  mind  had  failed  him.  "  I 
saw  the  weights  in  the  scales.  And — and  the  tal- 
lies for  the  retort  gold  run  more." 

"What  do  you  know  about  the  tallies?" 

"Not  much,  to  be  sure,  Maitland,"  he  said, 
shaking  himself  together.  "Torgenson,  over  at 
the  amalgam  house,  was  saying  that  the  placer 


THE   BEGINNING  OF  EVENTS     39 

had  got  back  to  its  regular  yield  since  you'd  taken 
charge.  Showed  me  the  tally  sheets — was  pleased, 
you  know." 

"So  Torgenson  has  begun  talking?" 

"Hold  on,  Maitland,  don't  grow  angry," 
Douglass  said,  pulling  his  moustache.  "He's 
ordinarily  close-mouthed,  as  you  know.  And  I 
was  really  to  blame.  Lay  it  on  my  head,  not  his." 

"Very  well.  But  kindly  explain  your  words 
*  four  short.1" 

1  gave  him  a  straight  look.  He  was  the  old 
Frederic  again,  however,  his  same  easy  self. 

"  Oh,  I  imagined  that  the  tally  sheets  ran 
higher,  but,  for  the  life  of  me,  I  don't  remember 
how  they  do  run.  I  was  wrong,  of  course.  Damn 
it,  my  tongue's  too  hasty,  Maitland.  Come  along 
and  split  a  bottle  with  me." 

Douglass  may  have  slept  soundly  that  night, 
but  I  did  not.  His  chance  remark,  repented  of 
the  instant  spoken,  had  hit  the  amount  of  missing 
gold  too  exactly  not  to  arouse  my  suspicions  of 
him.  His  explanation  of  how  he  had  obtained 
his  knowledge  was  lame.  And  now  that  I  consid- 
ered, why  had  he  spied  on  me?  The  tale  of  a 
white  face  at  the  window  was  far-fetched.  I 
stared  into  the  darkness.  Who  was  Douglass, 
anyway?  What  was  he? 

Down  to  Cold  Springs  we  went  next  day,  where 


40        THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

the  gold  was  duly  expressed  to  the  mint.  I  as- 
sumed my  customary  friendly  manner,  and  played 
my  part,  though  my  thoughts  were  grave.  My 
policy,  as  I  finally  decided  it,  would  be  to  pre- 
serve the  same  outward  demeanour  which  I  had 
observed,  to  wait,  to  watch,  and — if  guilty — take 
him  in  the  act  of  theft.  The  rat  goes  once  too 
often  to  the  cheese. 

Cold  Springs — what  a  mockery  upon  a  name! 
There  are  no  springs,  cold  or  otherwise,  at  that 
dreary  spot.  A  baker's  dozen  of  buildings  make 
up  the  town;  six  withered  poplars  adorn  it;  the 
depot  and  water  tank  supply  it,  the  one  with 
an  identity,  the  other  with  water.  Sagebrush 
stretches  away  in  every  direction,  with  a  white, 
dusty  road  wandering  through  it. 

The  July  heat  was  intense,  the  desert  quivered 
with  it,  and  the  rails  of  the  railroad,  which  ran 
east  and  west  straight  as  an  arrow,  shone  like  sil- 
ver wire. 

We  planned  to  return  to  Forge  that  same  night 
so  that  we  might  enjoy  the  coolness,  starting  after 
the  arrival  of  the  limited,  which,  following  our 
exile,  it  would  be  a  pleasure  to  see.  The  sun  was 
dropping  below  the  west  and  dyeing  the  desert  a 
misty  red,  when  the  train  grew  out  of  a  blot  of 
smoke  in  the  east,  and  at  last  stopped  before  the 
depot  platform. 


THE   BEGINNING  OF  EVENTS     41 

Douglass'  horse  pranced,  to  the  delight  of  the 
passengers,  whereupon  my  companion  made  it 
curvet  down  the  line  of  Pullmans.  At  this  mo- 
ment, the  station  master  came  running  to  me  with 
a  telegram,  crying  "  Delayed ! "  For  the  time 
being,  I  stuffed  the  message  into  my  pocket.  Then 
I  joined  Douglass  before  a  car  which,  to  the  sur- 
prise of  every^  one,  had  been  switched  from  the 
train. 

" Is  it  for  us?"  said  he.  " I'm  ready  to  travel 
this  instant,  for  I'm  fair  sick  of  dirt  and  rocks 
and  loneliness.  Think  of  San  Francisco  and  a 
supper,  with  music  and  wine  and  women.  We're 
daft  old  wives  to  be  digging  gold,  instead  of 
spending  it."  And  he  tugged  at  his  small,  fine 
moustache  fiercely. 

As  for  me,  I  was  busy  with  the  name  of  the  car 
— Ethys — and  I  vainly  ransacked  my  mind  to 
place  the  name.  All  at  once,  a  girl,  dressed  in 
cool,  white  linen,  appeared  upon  the  observation 
platform,  and  looked  off  across  the  desert.  From 
the  horizon,  her  eyes  travelled  back  until  they 
fell  on  us.  Nor  were  we  particularly  attractive 
in  our  chaps,  coats  tied  behind  our  saddles,  hand- 
kerchiefs knotted  behind  our  necks,  and  wide, 
high-peaked  hats. 

A  surprise  spread  slowly  through  me,  for  it 
dawned  upon  my  mind  that  I  had  seen  this  beau- 


42         THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

tiful  girl  somewhere,  sometime,  and  then  I  smiled 
in  delight.  She  was  the  girl  I  had  seen  in  New 
York,  the  girl  in  the  touring  car,  awaiting  Ted 
Fenton. 

I  was  not  proud  of  our  appearance. 

"  Come,  Douglass,  let's  get  out  of  this,"  I  said. 

"Man,  are  you  out  of  your  senses?"  he  ex- 
claimed. "And  with  such  a  picture  before  you? 
You're  the  most  ungallant  fellow  I've  met  with 
in  years.  I  shall  linger." 

A  faint  tint  appeared  in  her  cheeks  at  this  out- 
spoken flattery.  She  glanced  from  him  to  me, 
then  back  at  him  once  more.  I  observed  an  evi- 
dent struggle  on  her  face  not  to  laugh,  which 
pleased  me,  I  confess. 

"The  lady  hasn't  invited  us  to  stare,"  I  said. 
"And,  besides,  it's  time  to  go." 

"  No  hurry.  And  a  look  for  a  look  is  fair,  if 
the  face  is  fair;  and  a  Scot  has  ever  an  eye  for  a 
queen.  That's  out  of  the  history  books.  You're 
jealous,  old  boy,  because  she  doesn't  look  your 
way." 

He  removed  his  hat,  with  a  sweep  that  would 
have  done  an  eighteenth-century  cavalier  credit, 
rose  in  his  stirrups,  and  made  her  a  deep  obeisance 
— a  graceful,  attractive,  insolent  figure. 

"Welcome  to  Cold  Springs,  goddess  of  the 
car,"  he  addressed  her.  "  The  name  of  the  town 


43 

is  a  lie,  but  we  be  two  true  men.  Welcome,  thou, 
and  thy  car  Ethys." 

"Don't  you  think  you've  gone  far  enough?"  I 
asked,  half-amused,  half-indignant. 

"  Not  so  far  as  I  should  wish,  and  that  would 
be  up  those  steps." 

The  girl  slowly  turned  about,  and  passed  into 
the  car. 

"Now,  if  I'd  been  alone "  he  began,  twist- 
ing about  in  his  saddle,  to  face  me. 

But  I  did  not  wait  for  the  rest  of  the  speech. 
He  overtook  me,  laughing.  Out  of  town  we  went, 
at  a  gallop,  swinging  away  on  our  long  ride  north. 
The  evening  lasted  until  we  had  shaken  off  the 
desert  dust  and  ascended  the  first  stony  hill. 

On  a  sudden,  I  recollected  the  telegram,  clapped 
my  hand  on  my  pocket,  and  brought  it  forth.  It 
was  a  despatch  from  Mr.  Fenton,  stating  that  he 
and  a  party  were  on  their  way  to  Forge.  And, 
gazing  at  the  yellow  sheet  in  the  twilight,  I  smiled. 
Ethys!  A  remembrance  of  my  senior  prom  came 
to  me — a  picture  of  Ted's  sweet,  pretty,  sixteen- 
year-old  cousin,  with  whom  I  imagined  myself  in 
love.  And  this  was  she,  this  lovely  girl  I  had 
just  seen  in  Cold  Springs! 

"What  the  devil  you  grinning  at?"  Douglass 
broke  in  on  my  meditations. 

"  None  of  your  business,"  I  retorted,  my  mood 


44        THE  PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

changed  on  the  instant,  as  I  remembered  his  words 
at  the  car. 

He  gave  a  long  whistle. 

"By  heavens,  you're  in  a  beautiful  temper, 
Maitland!" 

"  I've  reason  to  be.  You  were  impudent  to 
Mr.  Fenton's  niece." 

"  Well,  that's  cool.  Was  that  his  niece  back 
yonder?  Oh,  we're  to  have  company  at  Forge 
House,  then?  That  will  liven  things  up  for 


us." 


Pretty  soon  the  moon  rose  and  lighted  cnir 
road.  'Douglass  now  and  again  broke  into  a  song, 
or  chattered  away  of  anything  that  came  into  his 
mind.  Off  in  the  northeast  a  heavy  storm  gath- 
ered around  a  lofty  peak.  Bands  of  fire  darted 
and  quivered  about  its  head,  and  distant  mutter- 
ings  of  thunder  were  borne  to  our  ears.  The 
storm  lasted  the  whole  night;  we  could  see  it 
plainly,  but  it  gradually  ceased  toward  three 
o'clock,  as  we  made  the  bank  of  Raging  Creek. 

Under  ordinary  circumstances,  the  creek  was  a 
full  stream,  and  now,  augmented  by  the  down- 
pour at  its  source,  it  had  become  impassable.  It 
was  truly  named,  raging  down  the  narrow  ravine 
which  formed  its  course.  A  wait  was  before  us, 
so  we  made  camp,  and  rolled  up  in  our  saddle 
blankets. 


THE   BEGINNING  OF  EVENTS     45 

Late  the  next  afternoon,  I  awoke.  I  found 
that  a  freighter  whom  we  had  passed  the  night 
before  had  come  up  and  unhitched  his  six-horse 
team.  A  sheep  herder  had  also  come  into  camp, 
and  the  two  of  them  sat  under  a  tree,  talking  with 
Douglass.  I  rose,  stretched  myself,  and  exam- 
ined the  swollen  waters;  they  still  flowed  undi- 
minished,  and  we  were  destined  to  spend  another 
night  in  our  enforced  bivouac. 

It  was  perhaps  an  hour  later  that  the  click  of 
horses'  feet  on  stones  drew  our  eyes  to  the  road. 
A  mountain  surrey  came  down  the  hill  toward  the 
ford.  As  to  its  occupants,  the  Scotchman  had  the 
same  presentiment  as  I,  for  he  jumped  to  his  feet, 
crying :  "  Our  party,  by  all  that's  lucky !  " 

So  it  proved.  Mr.  Fenton  shook  my  hand  and 
presented  me  to  his  niece  and  her  companions — a 
Mrs.  Arlington,  a  dainty  pink-and-white,  fair 
lady;  her  husband,  who  wore  a  brown,  pointed 
beard  and  eyeglasses,  and  who  was  a  rather  indo- 
lent, though  observant,  gentleman;  and,  last,  a 
tall,  black-haired  chap,  two  or  three  years  younger 
than  I,  rosy-faced,  good-natured,  and  not  long  out 
of  his  university. 

I  felt  Douglass  pulling  my  sleeve,  and,  on  turn- 
ing about,  found  him,  eager,  and  full  of  smiles. 
He  promptly  related,  upon  being  introduced,  the 
episode  at  the  car,  with  a  twist  of  humour  infi- 


46        THE   PRINCESS  OF  FORGE 

nitely  to  his  credit.  Every  one  laughed,  Ethys 
with  the  others. 

"  And  now,  Mr.  Maitland,"  she  said,  when  we 
happened  to  be  a  little  apart  from  the  rest,  "I 
knew  you  the  minute  I  laid  eyes  on  you.  You  are 
just  the  same  big  fellow  who  used  to  go  to  school 
with  Ted.  At  the  car  you  showed  your  fine  white 
teeth  when  you  smiled,  as  you  used  to.  You  are 
more  sunburned,  but  that's  all.  Do  you  think  me 
rude  to  be  so  candid?  It's  your  punishment  for 
running  away  to  Alaska  six  years  ago,  after  prom- 
ising me  to  go  yachting."  And  the  smile  she  gave 
me  was  worth  a  gold  mine. 

"  But  where  is  Ted's  sixteen-year-old  cousin, 
whom  I  danced  so  many  dances  with?"  I  said. 
"She  was  pretty — you  are  beautiful.  Frankness 
for  frankness  is  fair." 

"I  thought  men  in  the  West  spoke  only  the 
truth?" 

"They  do,  and  as  often  as  they  dare."  And 
I  made  no  effort  to  conceal  my  admiration. 

She  glanced  searchingly  at  me,  then  away,  and 
I  fancied  I  saw  a  deeper  colour  in  her  cheeks  and 
throat. 

The  cause  of  our  halt  was  readily  apparent  to 
the  newcomers.  At  my  suggestion,  we  rigged  up 
a  tent  out  of  the  freighter  tarpaulin,  broke  open 
a  bale  of  blankets  which  was  among  the  freight 


THE   BEGINNING  OF  EVENTS     47 

going  into  Forge,  and  made  rough,  but  comfort- 
able, provision  for  our  guests.  A  roaring  fire  was 
started;  a  huge  hamper  of  lunch  was  produced 
from  the  surrey. 

"  Floods  may  stop  us,  but  not  starve  us,"  said 
young  Woodworth,  a  big  sandwich  in  one  hand 
and  a  chicken  leg  in  the  other. 

That  evening  was  one  not  to  be  forgotten.  The 
fire  round  which  we  sat  flung  its  red  light  among 
the  shadows  of  the  trees  and  across  the  dark, 
glistening  surface  of  the  water.  In  our  ears 
sounded  the  low,  incessant  song  of  the  torrent. 
Overhead  the  stars  shone  pure  and  large.  The 
two  women,  with  blankets  cast  loosely  about  their 
shoulders,  spoke  little,  as  if  under  the  spell  of 
the  night,  and  listened  to  the  tales  which, 
prompted  by  the  surroundings,  were  told.  The 
old,  white-headed  freighter  and  the  sheep  herder, 
at  first  reluctant,  gradually  spoke  of  their  life  in 
the  hills,  recounting  slowly  and  without  emotion 
their  hardships  and  unending  grapple  with  life. 

It  was  evident  that  Ethys  and  the  pink-and- 
white  Mrs.  Arlington  were  experiencing  a  new 
sensation.  The  crippled  old  freighter  had  never 
had  so  attentive  an  audience,  and  he  warmed  to 
his  story. 

"  It  was  my  first  six-horse  team,  and  was  loaded 
with  sixty  hundred  of  flour.  We  slipped  on  a 


4»        THE   PRINCESS  OF   FORGE 

rounding  point  of  the  mountain.  I  fell,  too,  the 
wagon  going  over  me,  and  breaking  my  leg,  and 
hung  on  a  rock.  Down  below  I  heard  a  splash, 
a  thousand  feet  down.  I  jammed  the  bones  to- 
gether, and  tied  'em  with  a  piece  of  rag.  Couldn't 
crawl  far,  so  I  nigh  died  for  water.  A  prospec- 
tor found  me,  three  days  after.  That's  why  I 
limp  now."  And  he  thoughtfully  stuffed  his  pipe 
with  his  thumb. 

The  driver  told  of  days  twenty  years  before, 
when  he  drove  a  swinging  Concord  stage.  Doug- 
lass— not  to  be  outdone — related  an  adventure  on 
the  Gold  Coast;  and  I  described  Alaska. 

"We're  out  of  it,  Woodworth,"  said  Mr.  Ar- 
lington, addressing  the  young  fellow  beside  him. 

"  I've  never  been  anywhere  but  Europe,  and 
New  York,  and  humdrum  places,"  the  other  an- 
swered disconsolately.  "I  hope  something  turns 
up  here." 

We  all  stood  up,  preparatory  to  separating  for 
the  night.  Then  Ethys  Fenton  showed  the  fine, 
clean,  wholesome  strain  in  her.  She  walked  to 
the  old  freighter,  and  put  out  her  hand. 

"  I  want  to  thank  you  for  the  pleasure  you 
have  given  us  to-night." 

Surprised,  delighted,  stammering,  the  freighter 
shook  her  hand,  and  watched  her  go  as  if  he  had 
beheld  an  angel. 


THE   BEGINNING  OF  EVENTS     49 

A  fresh  log  was  thrown  on  the  fire,  sending  up 
a  rush  of  sparks.  We  examined  the  river,  and 
found  it  receding,  had  a  last  look  at  our  horses, 
and  turned  to  our  blankets. 

"  By  the  gods,  Maitland,"  said  Douglass,  walk- 
ing by  my  side,  "she's  a  woman  worth  the  win- 
ning." 

I  started  at  the  passion  in  his  voice.  Moreover, 
I  did  not  like  it. 


CHAPTER   IV 

THE  BREWING  OF  TROUBLE 

BETWEEN  the  business  of  the  mines  and  that  of 
providing  entertainment  for  my  guests,  my  days 
were  full  ones ;  indeed,  so  occupied  was  I  that  the 
matter  of  the  lost  gold  was,  for  the  time,  for- 
gotten. The  party's  trunks  came  up  from  Cold 
Springs;  I  planned  riding,  fishing,  and  mountain- 
climbing  excursions;  and  each  evening,  thanks  to 
our  dexterous  little  Japs,  we  had  an  excellent  din- 
ner. But  one  afternoon  my  mystery  was  jogged 
into  sight  again.  I  was  down  in  the  dam  house, 
examining  the  turbines,  when  one-armed  Kelly 
shuffled  through  the  door,  exhaling  his  habitual 
alcoholic  odour. 

"And  it's  none  too  soon  I've  found  ye,"  he 
greeted. 

Knowing  by  past  experience  that  I  should  have 
no  peace  until  the  old  rogue  had  had  his  say,  I 
laid  down  my  wrench  and  motioned  for  him  to 
speak. 

"  Trouble  is  brewin1,"  he  declared,  "  black 
trouble.  There's  dirthy  blaggards  sayin'  ye're 

so 


THE   BREWING   OF  TROUBLE     51 

like  me  partner  never  was,  and  takin'  the  com- 
pany's gold  by  handfuls." 

Here  was  news,  in  truth! 

"You're  sure  of  this,  Kelly?" 

"  Sure  ?  Look  at  the  eye  I  got  denyin'  of  it, 
and  ask  me  that! " 

There  was  no  doubt  about  the  eye.  A  crow 
was  no  blacker,  and  it  was  closed  as  tight  as  a 
sleeping  babe's. 

"Out  with  your  story,"  I  ordered.  "If  talk 
of  that  sort  is  afloat,  I  want  to  know  it." 

He  needed  no  urging,  and  broke  into  a  voluble 
account  of  how  he  came  by  the  information  and 
his  highly  ornamental  optic.  Going  in  Pelan's 
store  for  a  sup  of  liquor,  he  had  fallen  afoul  of 
four  miners,  who  were  idling  out  the  day.  They 
were  hard  at  solo,  but  not  so  hard  they  could  not 
deal  gossip  with  the  cards. 

One  avowed  it  would  be  a  sweet  hour  when  the 
Scotchman  sat  in  his  right  place,  which  was  no 
other  than  the  manager's  chair.  His  mate  an- 
swered that  wages  would  be  up  then,  and  work 
easy.  And  a  third,  Long  Pete  Gurley — I  already 
knew  his  loose-lipped  mouth — added  his  tag  that 
that  hour  was  soon ;  that  I  was  walking  in  Rogers' 
tracks,  though  my  Forge  shoes  were  new  but  two 
months;  and,  in  less  time  than  that,  I  should  be 
fired  and  gone  to  hell. 


52         THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

"And  what  tracks  is  thim,  if  I  may  ask 
bould?"  Kelly  had  demanded. 

"A  black-livered  thief's,  dug  deep,  with 
britches  draggin'  full  of  company's  dirt ! "  was 
Pete  Gurley's  reply. 

Kelly  gave  him  the  lie,  with  a  long  tail  of  worse 
words  to  it.  Thereupon,  the  game  terminated  for 
the  moment,  while  they  set  upon  the  crippled  Irish- 
man, knocked  him  down,  and  kicked  him  out  into 
the  street. 

"Where  did  they  get  hold  of  the  slander?"  I 
asked. 

"  Ask  another,"  said  Kelly.  "  But  if  ye  had  my 
suspicions,  it'd  not  be  far  from  your  elbow  ye'd 
look,"  he  said  significantly. 

"  I'll  look  both  there,  and  farther.  And,  mean- 
while, say  nothing  about  it,  Kelly.  You've  done 
me  a  good  turn,  that  I'll  not  soon  forget.  One 
of  these  days  we'll  know " 

"Yiss,  sorr,  ye'll  know  that  Rogers  niver  took 
the  dirt !  "  he  interrupted. 

"More  than  we  do  now,"  I  concluded  cau- 
tiously. "  I'm  beginning  to  think  that  none  of 
the  dust  stuck  to  his  fingers." 

Kelly's  one  sound  eye  blazed  with  a  ruddy  fire. 
"Drunkard  am  I  not,  but  it's  drunk  a  week  I'll 
be  whin  I  break  the  Scotch  head  of  the  dirty 
blaggard  that  spoilt  me  old  pard's  job  and 


THE    BREWING   OF   TROUBLE     53 

name!  "  Whereupon  he  went  away,  repeating  his 
threat. 

His  bad  tidings  left  me  no  desire  to  test  tur- 
bines. I  stood  a  while,  irresolute  in  mind  and 
body.  So  preposterous,  so  fantastic,  appeared  the 
whole  matter  of  the  missing  gold  that  it  was  diffi- 
cult to  grasp  it  as  a  fact.  And  added  now,  like 
a  crisp  appendix,  was  this  surreptitious  stab  at 
what  was  infinitely  more  precious,  my  good  name. 
If  the  gold  had  been  lost  by  mischance,  if  the 
shortage  had  occurred  through  miscalculation  of 
tallies,  no  one  would  have  known  of  it.  It  would 
have  been  my  secret.  But  here  was  the  rumour — 
a  thief  was  mixed  in  it.  What  was  just  as  plain, 
the  thief  was  not  content  with  his  plunder:  he 
would  wreck  me,  as  he  had  my  predecessor,  the 
ruined  Rogers. 

A  sudden  anger  welled  up  in  me.  My  palms 
itched  and  my  pulses  tingled.  If  I  had  a  battle 
on  my  hands,  I  would  fight  to  the  finish.  If  it 
were  to  be  a  struggle  under  cover,  I  would  be  as 
vigilant,  as  cunning,  as  relentless,  as  my  enemy. 
Ay,  and  he  should  regret  the  day  he  had  roused 
my  ire. 

I  went  swiftly  up  the  knoll.  One  part  of  my 
plan  had  already  leaped  to  mind,  to  forestall  the 
vicious  rumour  before  it  worked  injury  to  me  by 
reaching  higher  ears. 


54         THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

I  found  Mr.  Fenton  writing  letters  in  the  of- 
fice, and  I  interrupted  him  in  the  middle  of  a 
line. 

"Why  was  Rogers  released?"  I  questioned. 

"  Helped  himself  to  gold." 

"  So  I've  understood,  and  the  records  show  it, 
I  suppose.  What  did  the  man  himself  say?  " 

"  Denied  it." 

"Well,  I  never  knew  him,"  I  said,  "but  I'll 
risk  a  good  deal  that  he  was  innocent,  notwith- 
standing that  gold  vanished." 

Mr.  Fenton  looked  up  in  surprise. 

"Why  so?"  he  inquired. 

"  Because  I'm  in  exactly  the  same  fix." 

"Explain." 

"  Four  pounds  of  gold  are  missing — hanged  if 
I  know  where  or  how.  And  you  know  very  well 
I'm  not  a  thief." 

Mr.  Fenton  nodded.  "Go  ahead,"  said  he, 
letting  his  eyes  rest  on  me. 

I  seated  myself  on  the  corner  of  the  table. 

"You  know  how  we  work  things  here.  The 
coarse  gold  caught  in  the  sluices,  and  what  is 
taken  in  the  amalgam  and  retorted,  is  weighed 
each  day;  then  it's  melted  in  this  electric  furnace 
and  run  in  a  small  ingot.  When  I  made  up  the 
last  shipment,  part  was  gone.  I  am  the  only 
person  supposed  to  know  the  combination  of  the 


THE   BREWING   OF   TROUBLE      55 

safe.    Just  now  Kelly  informed  me  that  the  miners 
are  talking  that  I'm  short." 

"Then  it's  known?" 

"Yes — and  I  never  opened  my  mouth." 

A  gleam  came  into  his  grey  eyes.  For  a  mo- 
ment he  remained  silent,  running  his  long  fingers 
through  his  hair. 

"Do  you  suspect  any  one?"  was  his  query. 

"  Suppose  we  first  start  with  the  books,"  I  re- 
joined, "  and  leave  my  suspicions  for  the  moment. 
I'm  curious  to  discover  when  this  leak  began." 

"  Good.    That  may  aid." 

From  the  safe  I  brought  the  ledger  in  which 
was  recorded  the  output  of  the  placer,  and  spread 
it  on  the  table  before  him.  We  turned  to  the 
period  in  which  Rogers  was  manager. 

"Up  to  the  stoppage  of  work  last  fall,"  Mr. 
Fenton  said,  after  a  while,  "  it  appears  to  be 
straight."  He  turned  a  page  or  two.  "Here's 
the  beginning  of  work  again — the  thaw  was 
early,  I  remember.  See,  March  twenty-second 
was  the  first  resumption."  He  put  his  finger  on 
a  notation  in  red  ink.  "  Here's  when  your  as- 
sistant came,  '  F.  D.  took  C.'s  place  to-day' — 
Rogers  was  methodical  at  least — ah!  this  is  what 
we  want: 

"April  6— Rt.    G 393-SO4    oz. 

G.  D 43.726  oz. 

Missing   30.221  oz." 


56        THE  PRINCESS  OF   FORGE 

"  Such  a  careful  entry  of  loss  doesn't  look  like 
the  work  of  a  guilty  man,'*  I  remarked. 

"No." 

We  pursued  our  investigation.  In  ten  minutes 
more  we  had  all  his  receipts  and  shipments.  His 
second  balance  had  been  struck  a  fortnight  after 
the  first,  and  the  last  a  month  later,  at  which 
time  he  was  dismissed.  Supplementing  each  was 
a  marginal  statement  in  red  ink  of  the  amount  of 
loss.  Altogether  some  twenty  pounds  had  disap- 
peared, the  final  balance  showing  the  greatest 
shrinkage.  Apparently  the  thief  had  grown 
bolder  each  time.  Rogers'  notes,  like  crimson 
illuminations,  confined  the  period  of  thefts  to  a 
brief  two  months,  the  exact  time  which  Douglass 
had  been  employed. 

I  closed  the  ledger  with  a  slap. 

"That's  how  my  suspicion  runs,"  I  said. 

"  Still,  there's  no  tangible  proof." 

"  None." 

Mr.  Fenton  rose  and  paced  the  room;  his  big, 
bony  frame  bespoke  physical  power,  as  his  large 
head  showed  a  masterful  will. 

"We'll  find  proof  of  the  thief,  whoever  he  is. 
If  Douglass — but,  meanwhile,  we'll  keep  him  here 
to  see." 

"  He's  a  daring  fellow,"  I  suggested. 

"Well,  we're  full-grown  men,  Maitland,"  he 


THE  BREWING  OF  TROUBLE  57 

rejoined,  pausing  and  smiling  grimly  through  his 
grey  moustache,  and  surveying  me.  "We  each 
stand  six  feet." 

A  glow  of  satisfaction  warmed  me,  because  of 
his  trust  in  me,  because,  too,  I  think,  of  the  pros- 
pects of  a  struggle  with  my  wily  assistant. 

"Where  the  deuce  did  he  come  from,  I'd  like 
to  know ! "  I  exclaimed.  "  He's  close  about  him- 
self and  his  past." 

"  Rogers  picked  him  up." 

"  Rogers  was  a  fool,"  said  I. 

"Likely.  Has  any  more  gold  been  taken  of 
late?" 

"No." 

He  produced  a  long,  black  cigar,  and  lighted 
it,  and  gathered  up  his  papers  to  go. 

"All  the  circumstances  fix  on  Douglass,"  he 
said.  "  I  won't  charge  him  with  the  theft.  In- 
stead, I'll  cultivate  him.  I  don't  mind  losing  in 
an  open  fight,  but  underhand  work  I  hate.  As 
for  you,  Maitland,  don't  let  this  rumour  disturb 
you." 

"  I'm  grateful  for  your  confidence  in  me,  Mr. 
Fenton,"  I  said.  "  But  I'm  anxious  to  get  hands 
on  somebody,  or  something." 

" '  Somebody '  will  overstep  himself  presently — 
then  comes  your  chance,"  he  said,  puffing  a  great 
cloud  of  smoke. 


58'        THE  PRINCESS  OF  FORGE 

At  that  minute  an  interruption  came  at  the 
door: 

"AJre  you  two  going  to  parley  all  day?  I've 
watched  you  through  the  window  long  enough, 
and  I'm  coming  in."  Ethys  Fenton  stood  in  the 
door,  smiling.  "You  said,  uncle,  that  every 
woman  should  know  a  little  about  business,  and 
I'm  here  for  my  first  lesson." 

"But  I  didn't  promise  to  teach  you.  That 
shall  fall  on  Maitland." 

He  laughed,  strode  out  of  the  room,  and  I 
hastened  to  fetch  her  a  chair!  But  she  seated 
herself  in  the  one  at  the  desk. 

"  I'll  begin  here,  thank  you.  Now  I  can  imag- 
ine myself  ruling  the  destinies  of  Forge."  She 
settled  herself  with  a  fine  air  of  proprietorship. 
"They  tell  me,  Mr.  Maitland,  that  you  have 
ruled  camps  all  over  the  western  continent." 

"Who  has  so  flattered  me?" 

"And  are  becoming  famous." 

"No  man  is  really  famous  until  dead." 

"While  still  young,  too,"  she  added. 

"Time  will  repair  that,"  I  answered,  pushing 
aside  a  heap  of  blue  prints  that  cluttered  the 
table,  and  sitting  down. 

She  laughed,  and  pointed  toward  the  window. 

"  Here  we  jest  in  the  very  shadow  of  Anvil 
Rock.  To  think  it's  as  old  as  the  earth,  and 


THE  BREWING  OF  TROUBLE  59 

nearly  as  big !  Why,  it  would  barely  squeeze  into 
Central  Park!" 

Its  splendid  bulk  rose  against  the  sky.  The 
sun  sinking  into  the  canon  flung  its  last  golden 
rays  upon  the  great  granite  face;  about  the  foot 
glided  the  river  in  a  smooth,  brown  flood  to  the 
dam,  where  it  slipped  down  the  incline,  shining 
like  a  mirror,  to  break  at  the  bottom  into  a  thou- 
sand foaming  currents. 

"  I  love  it — love  every  atom  of  it,"  she  mur- 
mured softly.  "  It's  like  a  sturdy  old  patriarch, 
with  his  family  of  little  hills  around  him." 

"Whereas,  in  fact,  the  rock  is  a  parvenu,  and 
the  hills  of  old  lineage." 

"You've  no  poetry  in  your  geological  soul." 

"  Oh,  I  have,  by  your  leave,"  I  said,  smiling. 
"  Mountains  are  my  workshop,  remember.  But 
when  I  gaze  at  a  princess " 

"I've  scolded  Ted  over  and  over  for  giving 
me  that  nickname,"  she  interrupted.  "  And 
Charlie  Woodworth  and  the  rest  keep  up  the 


nonsense." 


"  I'm  partial  to  charming  nonsense." 
"You're  absurd." 

"  I  suppose  it's  the  only  expression  my  geolog- 
ical soul  has,"  I  remarked  thoughtfully. 
She  gave  way  to  the  merriest  laughter. 
"That  being  the  case,  we  must  allow  it." 


6o        THE   PRINCESS  OF  FORGE 

"  And  it's  agreed,  then,  that  you'll  be  princess 
to  me?" 

She  bit  her  lip.  A  faint  flush  coloured  the  fair 
skin  of  her  face. 

"  That  follows  by  no  means.  I'm  an  American, 
simply  a  good  American — and  you're  laughing  at 


me." 


I  think  my  head  swam  for  an  instant  under  the 
spell  of  her  beauty,  the  nearness  of  her  person,  the 
fragrance  in  which  she  seemed  to  float.  My  heart 
was  strangely  gripped. 

"  No !  On  my  honour— no !  I  could  never  do 
that,"  I  said  hoarsely. 

Slowly  she  raised  her  eyes  to  mine,  where  they 
rested.  Then  she  gazed  out  of  the  window,  and 
began  speaking  lightly  of  commonplace  things. 
And  I  remained  in  contemplation  of  her  smooth, 
white  brow  and  its  crown  of  brown  hair,  her 
eyes  deep  as  twilight  pools,  lips  red  as  holly 
berries. 

"  You're  paying  absolutely  no  attention  to  what 
I'm  saying,"  she  declared  suddenly. 

"  I'm  paying  the  strictest  attention  to  you,"  I 
replied. 

"That's  not  the  same  thing."  Then,  after  a 
pause:  "Surely  I  must  be  going." 

Outside,  the  purple  light  in  the  canon  had 
faded.  Only  the  majestic  Anvil  across  the  river 


THE   BiREWING  OF  TROUBLE     61 

held  the  sun's  final  rays,  and  these,  too,  all  at  once 
fled.  In  the  office  the  dusk  of  evening  rose  be- 
tween the  walls,  thickening  in  corners  and  soft- 
ening the  straight  lines  of  the  furniture,  while 
shadows  stood  like  apparitions. 

But  she  made  no  move. 

"  It's  very  snug  in  here — I'll  stay  a  bit  longer." 

One  of  the  turbines  down  in  the  turbine  house 
was  thrown  open,  and,  as  the  water  rushed 
through  it,  began  to  spin  out  its  low,  singing  note, 
the  pitch  rising  steadily  with  the  increase  of 
power,  until  it  found  its  night-long  tone  at  the 
three-hundred  notch.  The  dynamo  which  it  oper- 
ated joined  in  with  its  sharper  hum.  And  so 
wonderfully  clear  and  pure  lay  the  air  between 
the  mountains  that  we  heard  distinctly  the  duet 
of  the  machines  above  the  muffled  roar  of  the 
dam. 

"What  is  it?"  she  exclaimed. 

I  explained,  and  she  remained  unstirring,  lis- 
tening, wondering.  The  outline  of  her  head 
showed  in  the  gloom  of  the  room  cameo-like 
against  the  grey  panel  of  the  window  pane. 
Down  in  the  turbine  house  the  incandescents 
began  to  flash  out  lines  of  light  upon  the  water, 
while  in  front  of  Forge  House  an  arc  lamp  sput- 
tered into  blue  fire. 

She  leaned  her  cheek  upon  her  hand.    I  thought 


62        THE   PRINCESS  OF   FORGE 

how  wonderful  it  must  all  seem  to  her — how  it 
must  kindle  her  imagination! 

"  How  entertaining  Mr.  Douglass  is ! "  she 
said.  And  I  knew  my  thoughts  were  wasted. 

The  fact  is  that  I  started  with  surprise,  dis- 
appointment, vexation.  Her  pensive  attitude  had 
not  been  for  me  and  my  turbines,  but  for  the 
man  I  cared  for  least  in  the  world. 

"  He's  never  dull  a  second  of  the  day,"  I  re- 
plied, in  not  the  most  agreeable  tone. 

"And  you  must  find  him  pleasant  company." 

"  Oh,  very,"  I  admitted,  and  I  don't  think  she 
noticed  the  sarcasm  in  my  voice. 

"  One  can't  help  but  admire  him." 

"  I  think  the  world  of  him." 

"  He's  distinguished." 

"  No  doubt  of  it,"  I  agreed. 

"And  capable,"  she  persisted. 

"Of  many  things  one  wouldn't  suspect." 

She  mused  a  moment. 

"  He  has  a  way  about  him,"  she  said. 

"Which  he's  pursuing  in  this  direction,  if  I'm 
not  mistaken,"  I  concluded.  For  I  had  caught  the 
sound  of  hoof-beats  rapidly  pounding  nearer. 

"  You're  loyal  to  your  assistant,"  she  remarked, 
with  a  peculiar  laugh. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  I  asked,  alert.  Had 
she  been  drawing  me  on? 


THE   BREWING   OF  TROUBLE     63 

"  Why,  you  seem  fond  of  him." 

"  I  love  him ! "  Perhaps  I  overdid  it.  She 
suddenly  gave  way  now  to  open  laughter,  which 
puzzled  me. 

The  Scotchman,  astride  his  horse,  and  bare- 
headed as  usual,  raced  up  the  avenue  to  the  house, 
and  stopped  under  the  electric  light  with  a  vicious 
jerk  of  his  animal's  head.  Springing  from  the 
saddle,  he  struck  Duke  across  the  flank,  sending 
him  to  the  stable,  and  came  swiftly  to  the  office 
door. 

"  Devilish  dark  in  here,  Maitland !  "  he  cried, 
speaking  rapidly  as  was  his  wont  when  his  blood 
was  running  *  fast.  "  I'm  tired — and  thirsty. 
Those  beggars  back  yonder  broke  a  flume,  and 
kept  me  an  hour  late,  to-night  of  all  nights,  when 
I  was  in  a  stew  to  be  back  with  the  princess."  I 
reached  for  the  incandescent  globe,  for  I  dared 
not  let  his  tongue  run.  "Time's  short  for  the 
likes  of  us,  you  know.  I  put  Duke  through  his 
paces  coming  here — four  minutes  for  the  mile  on 
a  rough  road."  The  globe  evaded  my  hand, 
swinging  in  circles  on  its  cord.  "  I  tell  you,  Jack 
Maitland,  a  man  will  ride  through  hell  to  win  a 
smile  from  a  beautiful  woman.  And  to  win  one 
from  the  princess,  I'd  ride  straight " 

At  that  instant,  I  caught  and  snapped  on  the 
light.  His  words  died  on  his  lips.  Inwardly  I 


64        THE   PRINCESS  OF   FORGE 

chuckled  at  his  discomfiture.  Astonishment, 
though  brief  as  a  gust  of  air,  swept  his  face ;  then 
he  advanced  with  his  courtliest  manner  and  his 
bonniest  smile. 

"Princesses  are  like  angels,"  he  said  to  her. 
"They  bestow  their  bounties  often  before  due,  as 
you  have  done.  My  reward  is  sooner  than  I 
could  have  thought  possible,  and  it  recompenses 
me  the  more  that  it  comes  hard  on  my  heedless 
speech." 

"Your  speech  was  not  finished.  How  straight 
would  you  ride  ?  "  the  girl  demanded. 

"Straight  as  the  narrow  road  to  heaven." 

He  was  once  more  the  bold,  jaunty  Douglass, 
unperturbed  and  full  of  assurance. 

"That  would  be  very  straight  indeed,  sir. 
Now  we  must  prepare  for  dinner,  or  I  fear  we'll 
be  late." 

I  opened  the  door  into  the  hall,  and  stood  aside 
for  her  to  pass.  Douglass  watched  her  disappear, 
his  hands  on  his  hips,  his  eyebrows  cocked  up,  his 
lips  angled  in  a  hard,  sharp  grimace.  "Some 
day,"  he  said,  and  repeated  enigmatically: 
"  Some  day."  And  I  could  get  no  more  words 
from  him. 


CHAPTER  V 

FAIR   FIELD  AND  NO   FAVOUR 

FROM  the  evening  when  Douglass  had  found 
Ethys  and  me  together,  I  perceived  a  change  in 
his  attitude  toward  me.  In  the  presence  of 
others,  he  simulated  a  friendliness  that  I  knew 
did  not  exist;  in  private,  his  true  feelings  were 
unmasked,  and  he  showed  a  cold  and  hostile 
spirit.  He  held  his  head  higher,  so  to  speak.  In 
the  office,  he  answered  me  loftily,  did  not  hesi- 
tate to  manifest  an  open  contempt  for  my  opin- 
ions and  plans,  and  but  half  executed  the  latter. 

One  evening  it  happened  that  he  and  I  were 
going  out  from  the  dinner  table.  I  felt  the  touch 
on  my  arm. 

"The  gold  glitters,  eh?  She's  a  well-fledged 
dove,"  he  said  ironically,  nodding  after  Ethys 
Fenton. 

I  faced  about,  and  looked  him  over. 

"  I  was  right  about  you,"  I  said. 

"Which  was?" 

'That  you  are,  at  heart,  an  unprincipled  cad. 
I  can't  imagine  a  gentleman  speaking  of  a  guest 
as  you  just  have." 

65 


66         THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

His  eyes  flashed,  and  his  thin  fingers  shut 
tight  on  the  tablecloth. 

"  Keep  your  fires  covered,  my  jealous  lover," 
he  said,  holding  his  temper.  "  I  don't  blame  you 
for  feeling  ardent  where  there's  both  cash  and 
beauty.  What's  more,  I  shall  imitate  you,  and 
have  a  try  for  the  lady.  And  if  I  know  myself, 
I'll  win." 

That  he  was  in  earnest  became  very  soon  ap- 
parent. At  the  beginning,  he  simply  snatched 
time  from  his  afternoons  to  join  our  guests  on 
various  expeditions;  but  after  two  or  three  days, 
he  was  absent  to  a  degree  that  work  at  the  placer 
dawdled,  and  his  duties  accumulated  on  my  shoul- 
ders. I  pulled  him  up  short. 

"Hoot,  ye're  ower  jeelous,  I'm  thinking!"  he 
cried,  in  the  broad  Scotch  he  would  sometimes 
affect.  "Nae  less — an'  ye're  maist  too  braw, 
mon,  to  be  greetin'  like  ony  girny  guidwife." 
Then,  changing  swiftly  to  English :  "  I'll  have 
you  know,  Maitland,  that  my  orders  come  from 
Mr.  Fenton,  and  no  one  else,  while  he's  on  the 
ground.  Is  that  plain  enough  to  suit  you?" 

Lighting  a  cigarette,  he  flipped  the  match  up 
into  the  air,  and  strode  away.  My  patience  was 
hard  tried,  and  I  was  tempted  to  dismiss  him  that 
minute.  Nothing  more  than  this  piece  of  inso- 
lence was  needed  to  show  me  that  he  was  staking 


FAIR    FIELD   AND    NO   FAVOUR     67 

all  on  the  dice  of  chance,  with  the  princess  and 
her  wealth  as  the  prize. 

Half  an  hour  later,  I  rode  to  the  placer,  but 
he  was  not  there,  as  I  had  suspected.  Workmen 
were  shirking;  foremen  were  listless;  the  new  sec- 
tion of  the  flume  which  I  had  ordered  was  not 
begun — I  stirred  the  men  up.  Then  I  descended 
to  the  road,  and  spread  out  a  blue  print  on  a 
boulder,  and  fell  to  studying  it. 

After  a  time,  the  crunch  of  a  horse's  feet  near 
by  caused  me  to  look  up.  Ethys  Fenton,  rosy- 
cheeked,  and  with  hair  rebellious  in  the  breeze, 
sat  smiling  down  at  me. 

"  I've  come  visiting — please  help  me  off." 

"You've  arrived  at  the  right  moment,"  I  said, 
when  she  was  down.  "These  fellows  here  have 
put  me  so  out  of  sorts  that  I  need  this  good  luck 
to  even  the  score." 

She  laughed  gaily. 

"Am  I  synonymous  with  good  luck?  If  you 
mean  that  I've  permission  to  stay,  why,  I  will. 
You  see,  I'm  on  my  way  home,  but  I'll  sit  a  while 
on  this  stone.  Charlie  Woodworth  wanted  to 
come,  too;  but  I  told  him  he  must  remain  and  be 
nice  to  Helen ;  besides,  I  didn't  want  to  be  annoyed 
once  I  was  settled  comfy  with  a  book  in  my  lap. 
How  those  pipes  tear  up  the  hill  I  What  big 
fellows  they  are !  " 


68         THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

"The  water  strikes  the  earth  stiff  as  a  steel 
bar." 

"Tell  me  more  about  it  all." 

So  I  described  the  process  of  placer  mining — 
flumes,  hydraulics,  sluices,  mercury  tanks — and 
pointed  out  the  little  shanty  in  which  the  amalgam 
was  retorted. 

"  Is  it  out  of  just  that  one  stratum  of  gravel 
that  the  gold  conies?"  she  asked. 

"No  other." 

She  leaned  forward  with  her  round  chin  in  her 
palm,  elbow  on  knee,  watching  the  great  nozzles 
spout  their  curving  streams,  with  the  hillside  cav- 
ing away  before  them.  The  light  wind  stirred 
the  veil  on  her  hat,  and  the  sunshine  played  in 
her  brown  hair,  and  touched  the  exquisite  line  of 
her  neck.  My  heart  quickened,  for  never  before 
had  I  had  so  lovely  a  listener;  my  tongue  grew 
eloquent. 

With  all  the  skill  I  could  summon,  I  marked  the 
points  and  lines  of  the  picture,  drew  its  lights 
and  shadows,  and  painted  its  contrasts  and  col- 
ours. 

When  I  was  done,  an  hour  had  passed.  She 
gathered  her  gloves,  arose,  and  put  out  her 
hand. 

"  Thank  you  for  a  very  pleasant  afternoon,  my 
best  afternoon  since  coming  to  Forge.  I've 


FAIR   FIELD   AND    NO   FAVOUR     69 

wanted  to  know  all  about  this,  but  never  knew 
where  to  begin.  A  girl  tires  of  picnics  sometimes, 
and  wishes  for  something  real  and  strong  and 
rugged.  This  scene  is  full  of  energy.  Now,  will 
you  ride  home  with  me?" 

I  brought  the  horses  to  where  she  was  drawing 
on  her  gauntlets. 

"You've  stopped  the  placer,"  I  laughed. 
"Every  man's  staring  his  eyes  out  at  you — with 
good  reason." 

"  If  that's  so,  I'll  not  come  again." 

"Oh,  I  shall  give  orders  that  the  gazing  be 
left  to  me  hereafter." 

"  I  suppose  it's  the  mountain  air  makes  you  say 
those  nice  things,"  she  smiled. 

"Yes;  doctors  tell  us  that  high  altitudes  affect 
the  heart." 

She  settled  herself  in  the  saddle,  shook  out  her 
veil,  and  lifted  her  reins. 

'  Then  we  should  get  down  the  canon  as  fast  as 
possible,"  she  said  over  her  shoulder,  and  I 
caught  a  laughing  flash  of  her  teeth.  "  We  must 
not  lose  time,  anyhow,  for  if  the  others  learn  I 
halted  here  they'll  think  me  a  fibber." 

"Which  you're  not." 

"It  would  be  a  dull  life  if  I  couldn't  change 
my  mind  when  I  wanted  to,"  she  cried,  as  we 
swung  into  a  gallop. 


70        THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

Willingly  I  would  have  stretched  out  to 
leagues  the  mile  to  Forge  House.  The  princess 
was  in  high  spirits  over  Anvil  Rock,  which,  at 
this  late  afternoon,  was  at  its  finest.  Its  western 
front  was  all  alight;  to  the  east  fell  its  long 
shadow.  Presently,  she  beheld  an  eagle  far  up 
the  lofty  mountain,  soaring  slowly,  and  her  face 
glowed  with  excitement. 

As  we  entered  Forge,  the  pretty  Mexican  girl, 
Inez,  came  out  of  the  house  where  she  lived,  and 
stepped  forth  into  the  road  before  us.  Our 
horses  were  moving  at  a  slow  walk.  She  extended 
a  bouquet  of  flowers,  which  she  had  gathered 
among  hillside  rocks. 

"  For  the  princess,"  said  she. 

My  companion  graciously  bent  and  accepted 
them,  with  a  word  of  thanks,  evidently  touched 
by  this  intended  kindness.  The  girl  on  the 
ground  remained  without  further  word  or  motion. 
But  so  strange  and  riveted  was  her  scrutiny  that, 
at  last,  Ethys  Fenton  bit  her  lip,  and  glanced 
round  at  me  with  a  troubled  face.  She  nodded 
abruptly  to  the  girl,  and  we  rode  away. 

"  How  queerly  she  acted,"  she  said. 

"  She'd  heard  of  you,  no  doubt,  and  wanted  to 
see  what  you  were  like." 

"Who  is  she?"  she  asked  thoughtfully.  "And 
how  did  she  learn  my  nickname?" 


FAIR   FIELD   AND   NO   FAVOUR     71 

I  could  have  made  a  shrewd  guess. 

"Don't  mind  it,"  I  assured  her;  "people  in 
Forge  have  curiosity  as  they  have  elsewhere  in 
the  world." 

"  Her  eyes  were  so — so  intense." 

Up  through  the  town  we  passed  at  a  footpace. 
In  front  of  Pelan's  store,  which  was  headquarters 
for  all  the  riffraff  in  Forge,  I  lighted  on  a  new 
and  disturbing  fact.  My  bad  lot  of  dynamiters 
were  back  again,  despite  my  express  order  to  keep 
away.  They  appeared  very  much  at  home,  lolling 
on  the  store  platform. 

"  That's  him !  "  one  shouted. 

"Yes,  that  tried  to  run  us  out!" 

"  And  who's  stealin'  the  company's  swag  I "  put 
in  a  third. 

I  swung  my  horse  about,  and  came  close  to 
them. 

"What  are  you  doing  here?"  I  demanded. 

They  cowered  as  such  men  always  cower  under 
sudden  attack. 

"  It's  a  free  country,"  one  growled. 

"  Not  so  free  as  you  think.  If  you're  not  five 
miles  out  of  Forge  by  noon  to-morrow,  down  you 
go  to  Cold  Springs,  tied  hand  and  foot.  You'll 
be  well  met  there,  I  promise  you,"  I  concluded 
significantly. 

For  the  law  was  already  reaching  out  after 


72        THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

them  for  their  dastardly  outrage  over  the  moun- 
tains, which  they  knew  as  well  as  I.  My  warning 
given,  I  cantered  on. 

"See,  there  goes  the  eagle  flying  down  the 
river!  "  Ethys  Fenton  said,  as  I  joined  her.  "  Per- 
haps it's  going  home,  too.  Sometime  I'll  follow 
it.  I  remember  riding  down  the  canon  one  day 
and  finding  the  most  beautiful  gorge,  whose  walls 
were  overgrown  with  masses  of  lichens  until  it 
seemed  as  if  they  had  been  painted  with  great 
daubs  of  red  and  yellow  and  violet." 

"  That  would  be  worth  going  far  to  see.  Guide 
me  to  it  some  day." 

"If  you'll  promise  to  like  it — ah,  I  know  you 
will!" 

At  the  door,  we  dismissed  our  horses  in  care 
of  one  of  the  servants,  and,  casting  a  glance  back 
at  the  road  we  had  come,  saw  at  a  distance  the 
rest  of  the  household  riding  home. 

"We're  just  in  time,"  said  Ethys;  "and  they 
imagine  me  with  my  nose  in  a  book.  What 
would  they  think,  if  they  knew ! " 

She  made  them  a  roguish  bow,  tossed  them  a 
kiss  with  the  tips  of  her  fingers,  and  sped  laugh- 
ing up  the  wide  staircase.  When  they  arrived, 
neither  of  us  was  visible.  Woodworth  shortly 
came  tramping  into  my  room;  he  still  wore  his 
riding  togs,  and  was  in  very  low  spirits.  Fling- 


FAIR   FIELD  AND    NO   FAVOUR     73 

ing  himself  into  a  chair,  he  brooded  in  portentous 
silence. 

"What's  up,  old  man?"  I  inquired,  struggling 
before  the  mirror  with  a  refractory  tie. 

He  straddled  his  long  legs,  ruffled  his  black 
hair,  and,  with  his  smooth,  beardless  chin  on  his 
breast,  emitted  a  lugubrious  sigh.  Charlie  was 
yet  a  good  deal  of  a  boy,  simple,  direct,  and  lik- 
able, wearing  his  heart  on  his  sleeve. 

"  It's  the  princess — hang  it ! "  he  growled. 

"What's  she  done?" 

"Everything — nothing.  Rode  off  this  after- 
noon to  read  a  fiddledly-foolish  novel,  just  when  I 
thought  I  had  her  to  myself.  Yesterday  I  had 
no  better  luck;  for,  when  we  were  on  the  point 
of  going  up  the  river  together,  in  flops  Douglass, 

and "  He  suddenly  sat  up  straight  and 

wrathful.  "  See  here,  Maitland,  who  the  devil 
is  this  blamed  Scotchman,  who's  always  sticking 
his  nose  in?" 

The  new  subject  dissipated  his  gloom  wonder- 
fully, leaving  a  fine  heat. 

"What's  the  matter  now?"  I  grinned  heart- 
lessly. 

"Matter!  Well,  he  did  me  clean  yesterday — 
clean  as  a  whistle.  Oh,  I  was  a  regular  come-on. 
He  broke  into  our  party  of  two,  and  carried  her 
off  right  under  my  nose.  I  came  home — a  whipped 


74         THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

dog  always  runs  home,  you  know.  But  I  bet  a 
thousand,"  he  cried,  "that  he  doesn't  do  it 
again ! " 

"I'll  bet  a  thousand  he'd  take  that  bet,"  I 
said. 

"  Yes,  curse  him,  he  would !  That's  the  trouble, 
his  effrontery  stops  nowhere.  He  calls  me  '*  boy,' 
or  '  freshman,'  or  '  rah-rah,'  to  my  face,  and  I 
have  to  swallow  it.  A  fine  assistant  he  is! 
He " 

"Hold  on,  Charlie;  keep  off  that  subject." 

"  My  tongue's  my  own,  and  I'll  say  what  I 
please,"  he  continued  darkly.  "The  placer  hasn't 
felt  his  boot  the  past  week  to  my  knowledge;  and 
he  leaves  the  whole  job  to  you,  while  he  plays 
the  gallant.  I'll  open  uncle's  eyes  a  bit." 

"You'll  do  nothing  of  the  kind." 

"Well,  I  would  if  I  were  less  a  gentleman," 
he  growled,  his  mussed  hair  over  his  forehead. 
"And  the  worst  of  it  is  that  she  seems  to  like 
him  dancing  round.  In  my  opinion,  the  fellow's 
nothing  more  or  less  than  a  barefaced  adven- 
turer." 

"You  seem  hard  hit,  Charlie,"  I  said,  clap- 
ping him  on  the  back. 

"I  am — deuced  hard  hit.  I'm  downright  sick 
for  love  of  her." 

He  grinned  feebly. 


FAIR   FIELD   AND    NO   FAVOUR     75 

"You've  not  fallen  off  in  flesh,"  I  observed. 

"  By  Heaven,  you're  callous  as  an  ox !  I 
thought  you  a  friend." 

"  Come,  get  into  your  clothes.  You'll  be  late 
for  dinner." 

"  Not  if  I  know  it,"  he  exclaimed,  jumping  up. 
"  Anyway,  it's  a  shame.  She'd  better  take  a  man 
like  you  or  me,  and  be  done  with  it,  than  waste 
time  over  such  a  rascal."  He  stalked  off  in  dis- 
gust, slamming  the  door  after  him. 

In  this  state  of  affairs,  we  came  to  the  table. 
The  unconscious  cause  of  it  all,  Ethys,  sat  through 
the  meal,  radiant  and  winsome  and  happy,  dis- 
tributing her  smiles  with  impartiality. 

I  made  myself  agreeable  to  Mrs.  Arlington,  by 
whose  side  I  sat;  she,  her  husband,  and  Mr.  Fen- 
ton  were  their  customary,  amiable  selves;  but 
Woodworth  was  lively  with  a  forced  gaiety,  and 
Douglass  was  positively  at  his  best.  From  time 
to  time  I  saw  that  his  eye  rested  sardonically  upon 
the  less  lucky  lover,  as  if  he  knew  how  the  wind 
stood  in  that  quarter,  and  as  if  he  enjoyed  the 
knowledge.  He  talked  across  the  candles  wittily, 
and  won  the  approval  of  us  all,  in  spite  of  our- 
selves. Nor  did  he  permit  the  favourable  im- 
pression to  diminish  when  we  passed  from  the 
table.  He  kept  himself  well  up  to  the  mark,  and 
never,  though  it  went  against  the  grain  for  me  to 


76        THE   PRINCESS  OF   FORGE 

admit  it,  looked  handsomer  or  more  the  gentle- 
man. 

He  was  not  the  man  to  let  any  victory  remain 
half  won — so,  in  this  case,  he  struck  while  the 
iron  was  hot,  proposing  a  torchlight  exploration 
of  an  old  worn-out  mine  tunnelled  in  the  base  of 
Anvil  Rock.  The  night  was  fine,  the  moon  was 
full,  and  the  air  warm.  There  was  a  romantic 
tinge  about  the  project,  a  prospect  of  harmless 
adventure,  that  caught  the  instant  fancy  of  the 
two  ladies,  and  they  fell  in  with  the  plan,  while 
the  gentlemen  gave  a  ready  assent. 

Watching  the  Scotchman's  face,  I  saw  a  look 
of  ill-concealed  satisfaction  appear  on  it.  Imme- 
diately I  came  to  the  conclusion  that  he  had  long 
had  the  scheme  revolving  in  his  head,  but  whether 
for  any  other  reason  than  the  triumph  of  leader- 
ship I  could  not  guess. 

Well,  I  would  not  be  at  the  tail  of  his  pro- 
cession. He  could  fly  his  kites  alone.  My  duties 
as  manager  now  stood  me  in  my  need,  and  I 
pleaded  stress  of  business  as  an  excuse  for  re- 
maining. 

"Why,  that's  too  bad,  old  chap,"  Douglass 
said  patronisingly,  when  I  mentioned  that  I 
should  be  detained.  "  I'd  counted  on  you  to  look 
after  things  at  the  rear — I  suppose  Woodworth 
will  do." 


FAIR   FIELD  AND   NO   FAVOUR    77 

"  Certainly.  L'll  see  that  nothing  is  last  or 
stolen,"  Charlie  replied,  bitter-sweetly. 

Half  an  hour  later,  the  party,  clothed  in  boots 
and  waterproofs,  made  a  start,  the  men  carrying 
miners'  torches.  The  prospect  of  a  romp  had 
raised  every  one's  spirits.  Jests  at  each  other's 
costume  were  bandied  about,  and  the  ladies  ral- 
lied me  on  being  afraid  of  the  dark,  of  spooks, 
and  of  becoming  lost.  Out  of  the  door  they  all 
trooped. 

Douglass  was  the  last,  and  made  it  a  point  to 
fire  a  parting  shot. 

"  You're  a  fair  miner,  but  a  mighty  poor  lover," 
he  said,  with  lowered  voice. 

"And  you're  too  greedy,"  I  replied.  "Your 
fortune  won't  last." 

"  But  hers  will,"  he  said  eagerly.  "  I  take  the 
gifts  of  the  gods  with  both  hands — take  them 
to-night." 


CHAPTER   VI 

SCOTCH   SECRETS 

I  WATCHED  the  party  descend  to  the  river's  brink 
and  enter  the  boat.  The  water  was  all  ashine 
under  the  round  moon,  and  the  air  was  still,  so 
still  that  their  words  and  laughter,  flung  back 
from  the  broad  face  of  Anvil  Rock  as  from  a 
sounding-board,  seemed  startlingly  near  at  hand. 
They  landed  in  the  mountain's  black  shadow, 
where  I  followed  the  torches'  flames  for  a  while, 
until  they  blinked  out,  and  I  knew  they  had  passed 
under  the  tunnel's  arch. 

I  went  into  the  office,  sat  down  in  the  darkness, 
and  gave  myself  up  to  a  cigar  and  my  thoughts. 
The  outer  door  stood  open,  a  few  of  the  moon's 
rays  fell  in  at  a  window.  Three-quarters  of  an 
hour  may  have  gone  by  when  I  was  aroused  by 
a  soft  step  on  the  threshold,  and  beheld,  in  the 
shadow  of  the  portico,  where  the  arc  lamp  over 
the  avenue  did  not  reach,  the  dim  shape  of  a  girl. 

"  Frederic,"  spoke  her  voice. 

I  scented  an  adventure.  What  could  the  Mex- 
ican girl  want  of  my  astute  assistant? 

78 


SCOTCH   SECRETS  79 

"  Frederic,"  she  repeated,  stepping  inside. 
"  Did  Senor  Maitland  keep  you  again  to-night — 
and  last  night?" 

Ah,  my  canny  Scot!  He  had  deceived  her  by 
playing  hide-and-seek  behind  my  name.  It  was 
more  than  careless  for  so  sharp  a  fellow  as  Doug- 
lass to  use  so  flimsy  a  pretext.  Now,  since  I  had 
been  introduced  into  this  minor  affair  of  his  with- 
out my  knowledge,  I  concluded  I  had  warrant  in 
going  a  bit  farther.  I  snapped  on  the  light. 

"  Diosf"  she  cried,  and  sprang  back  a  step. 

"  Senorita,  I  want  you  to  know  that  I  keep  the 
gallant  Frederic  from  none  of  his  appointments 
with  you,"  I  said,  "neither  to-night  nor  last 
night,  nor  any  other  evening." 

"Then  I  will  go." 

I  darted  between  her  and  the  door. 

"Not  yet,  if  you  please.  I  wish  a  little  con- 
versation with  you.  It  may,  perhaps,  save  you 
future  mistakes  and  heartaches." 

Her  lip  curled  with  scorn. 

"What  do  you  know  of  heartaches,  senor?" 
she  asked  slowly.  "You  are  tall  and  strong  and 
cold." 

At  that,  I  broke  forth  into  a  hearty  laugh,  for 
it  was  not  exactly  flattering,  her  speech.  As  for 
her,  her  face  showed  no  answering  mirth. 

"  I  may  not  be  so  amiable  as  Frederic  Doug- 


8o        THE  PRINCESS  OF  FORGE 

lass,  sefiorita,"  I  said,  smiling;  "but  honesty, 
you  will  learn,  is  of  more  worth  than  amiabil- 
ity." 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"Let  me  go,"  she  said. 

"  I  thought  you  wished  me  to  tell  you  how 
Frederic  spends  his  evenings  with  the " 

"With  whom,  sefior?"  she  demanded,  eyes 
aflame. 

"  Come,  let  us  talk  calmly."  I  placed  a  chair 
for  her,  which  she  took  with  murmured  thanks. 
"  I've  no  desire  .to  keep  you  against  your  will, 
sefiorita.  I  only  want  to  say  to  you  that  you  will 
be  wise  to  forget  Mr.  Frederic  Douglass." 

"Forget— no!" 

Breathing  hurriedly,  slightly  pale,  and  keeping 
her  great  black  eyes  fixed  on  me,  she  searched 
for  my  purpose. 

"Yes;  forget  him,"  I  went  on.  "He's  been 
saying  pretty  things  to  you,  I  imagine,  which 
you've  taken  seriously.  And  he's  the  last  person 
to  take  seriously  when  the  subject  is  love.  You'll 
do  wisely  not  to  plan  any  more  of  these  night 
meetings."  She  opened  her  lips  to  speak,  but  I 
raised  my  hand.  "  He  is  deceiving  you,  sefiorita. 
Wait  until  you're  older,  or  till  you  find  an  honest 
lover." 

For  a  minute,  the  girl  remained  rigid  and  si- 


SCOTCH   SECRETS  81 

lent,  like  a  figure  of  suffering.  But  directly  the 
colour  flooded  into  her  face,  quickening,  darken- 
ing, transforming  her  olive  beauty.  All  her  pas- 
sionate blood  was  aflame.  She  sprang  to  her  feet, 
stretching  one  open  hand  toward  me. 

'You  think  me  a  child — I  am  a  woman!  My 
love  is  greater  than  all  Forge,  all  the  world! 
And  he  loves  me — a  hundred,  a  thousand  times 
has  he  said  it !  "  Her  head  rose  proudly.  "  And 
some  day  I  will  be  his  wife,  senor." 

A  soft  whistle  escaped  my  lips.  I  leaned 
against  the  safe,  and  thrust  my  hands  into  my 
pockets.  There  was  nothing  to  say  to  such  an 
outburst,  for  of  a  surety  matters  had  got  by  the 
soothing-syrup  stage.  His  blue  eyes  and  glib 
tongue  had  worked  mischief  here;  he  was  making 
good  his  boast  concerning  himself  and  women. 

"Don't  trust  him,"  I  said,  at  last.  "He's  a 
scoundrel." 

She  clutched  her  breast.  I  saw  that  her  hand 
was  trembling. 

"  And  this  woman  with  whom  he  rides,  this 
princess?  Is  it  as  the  people  say,  the  daughter  of 
the  company?  Why  does  he  ride  with  her — 
always?" 

I  remained  silent. 

'Tell  me,  senor." 

'  Your  heart  should  tell  you." 


82 

"Was  he  here  with  her  last  night — the  night 
before?" 

"Yes,  senorita." 

Slowly  she  straightened,  smiling  with  infinite 
contempt. 

"  The  liar— the  liar !  "  she  breathed.  "  I  knew 
it  here  in  my  breast.  He  has  sold  himself  for 
her  gold.  It's  gold  he  must  always  have — gold! 
— always  more  gold !  " 

"The  bargain's  not  made  yet,"  I  put  in,  for 
my  own  satisfaction  as  much  as  hers. 

"You  are  a  great  fool,  Senor  Manager,  a  very 
great  fool,  nearly  as  great  as  that  other  who  was 
accused  of  stealing."  Her  eyes,  and  her  contempt, 
were  now  turned  on  me.  Then  she  continued, 
speaking  to  herself:  "Hasn't  he  enough  in  this 
safe  that  he  must  have  hers?" 

I  suddenly  caught  her  wrist. 

"He  robbed  this  safe?"  I  cried. 

She  shrank  back,  as  if  afraid. 

"You  hurt  me,  senor — let  me  go." 

"  He  robbed  it?  Answer  me.  He  robbed  it?  " 
In  my  excitement,  I  fairly  shook  her. 

"Yes." 

I  loosed  my  grip,  and  moistened  my  lips.  The 
revelation  had  come  at  last. 

"  The  villain ! "  I  said  finally,  between  my 
teeth1.  "He  still  breaks  his  employer's  bread, 


SCOTCH   SECRETS  83 

and  eats  his  salt — the  traitorous,  faithless  vil- 
lain!" 

The  perfidy  of  his  conduct,  now  that  I  knew  it 
to  a  certainty,  struck  doubly  deep  into  my  mind. 

"We're  both  his  dupes,  senorita,"  I  said  bit- 
terly. "He  steals  your  love  and  my  honour." 
In  a  gust  of  passion,  I  took  a  pace  or  two  across 
the  floor.  Then,  cooling:  "He  shall  not  mock 
us — we'll  match  our  wits  against  his." 

She  had  watched  me  without  a  word.  Now  she 
said:  "  Come  with  me.  It's  gold  he  loves;  let  it 
be  an  empty  love." 

Out  of  the  house  she  led  me,  hatless  as  I  was, 
out  upon  the  gravel  driveway  and  round  the 
corner  and  down  the  slope  at  the  rear  to  the  ma- 
chine shop,  a  hundred  yards  distant  in  a  hollow. 
Its  windows  were  unlighted,  the  place  silent.  The 
Frenchman  was  absent. 

I  had  a  key  to  the  shop,  as  to  all  buildings. 
We  were  soon  in — a  Roman  dungeon  could  have 
been  no  darker.  The  moonlight  fell  through  the 
windows  and  upon  a  work-table  in  two  white 
squares;  the  rest  of  the  long  room  was  black.  I 
struck  a  match,  for  we  dared  not  use  the  lamps, 
lest  some  curious  eye  see  them,  and  the  girl  picked 
her  way  through  the  lathes  and  forges  to  a 
wooden  cupboard  which  stood  against  the  wall. 
Over  her  shoulder,  I  held  a  match  and  examined 


84        THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

it,  a  tall,  narrow,  wooden  press,  solidly  built,  with 
a  lock  which  one  glance  showed  me  was  beyond 
most  men's  tampering. 

"Look  under  its  bottom,"  she  said,  striking  it 
with  her  knuckles;  "it's  false  as  his  heart." 

"How  do  you  know?" 

She  laughed  wildly. 

"  I  saw  him  come  one  night — your  first  week 
here.  I  followed.  When  he  looked  up  from  his 
knees  and  beheld  me  beside  him,  he  swore  an 
oath,  then  laughed,  and  said  you  were  a  fool  like 
the  other,  Rogers.  And  he  said  that  he  loved  me, 
and  that  when  we  were  married  we  should  live  in 
Forge  House.  Then  we  came  away,  after  putting 
the  gold  back  into  the  hole." 

"Where  it  will  probably  stay  a  while,"  I  re- 
plied, trying  the  cupboard  door. 

"Let  me  go  now,  sefior." 

"  Remember,  Inez,  you've  a  friend  in  me.  If 
any  time  I  can  help  you,  I  will." 

Either  she  did  not  or  would  not  see  the  hand  I 
held  out  to  her.  Her  mood  had  changed.  From 
revengeful  eagerness  she  had  fallen  to  weary  list- 
lessness;  and  she  shivered  in  the  moonlight  as  she 
left  the  building.  I  watched  her  go  down  the  dry 
and  shallow  runlet  which  passed  the  door  of  the 
shop,  and,  bending  round  the  eastern  slope  of  the 
knoll,  inclined  thence  to  the  river. 


SCOTCH   SECRETS  85 

At  its  crossing  with  the  road  it  broke  into  a 
little  gully  full  of  stones  and  stunted  bushes  bear- 
ing a  few  leaves  and  bitter  berries. 

Whether  I  had  failed  to  observe  the  French- 
man, D'Urville,  coming  from  town,  or  whether 
he  had  stood  there  in  meditation,  I  cannot  say; 
but,  at  any  rate,  as  she  put  foot  into  the  road,  he 
appeared  in  front  of  her,  playfully  spreading  his 
arms. 

The  distance  was  not  over  fifty  yards,  and  their 
voices  floated  plainly  up  to  me  on  the  quiet  night 
air. 

"  It  ees  mademoiselle !  "  he  exclaimed. 

For  a  few  minutes  they  carried  on  a  low  con- 
versation, then  she  started  away.  But  he  caught 
her  arm  and  stopped  her,  and  I  heard  his  whin- 
ing voice :  "  You  wouldn't  leave  me  wizout  a 
leetle  kees,  p'tlte.  While  cher  Frederic  is  away 
the  mice  will  play;  is  it  not  so?" 

"  Ugh !  You  beast !  "  she  hissed.  And,  like  a 
wildcat,  quick  and  furious,  she  struck  him  twice, 
thrice,  across  the  cheek. 

He  staggered  back,  and  before  he  had  recov- 
ered from  her  fierce  attack,  she  sprang  away,  and 
was  speeding  noiselessly  down  the  road.  He  pur- 
sued her  for  a  few  steps,  laughing,  halted, 
and  laughed  again,  and,  at  last,  gave  over  the 
chase. 


86        THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

Here  was  a  fine  matter  for  the  master  lover! 
The  lieutenant  trespassing  on  his  captain's  pre- 
serve! Douglass  would  have  been  rarely  pleased 
had  he  known  how  loyally  D'Urville  had  at- 
tempted to  make  up  for  the  absence  of  the  truant 
Scotchman. 

But  I  became  grave.  To  have  a  pair  of  such 
conscienceless  rascals  at  work  in  one's  own  door- 
yard  was  cause  for  gravity;  for,  unlike  as  they 
were  in  face  and  manner,  their  evil  natures  fitted 
one  another  like  the  halves  of  an  almond.  By 
this  time,  I  well  knew  that  they  had  been  old, 
tried,  trusted  comrades  in  uncounted  villainies 
here  and  there  about  the  world,  and  recognised, 
of  course,  that  they  were  hand  in  glove  in  the 
matter  of  the  stolen  gold. 

Retreating  into  the  shop,  I  softly  closed  and 
locked  the  door,  and  waited.  As  I  waited,  I 
laughed.  For  a  plan  both  bold  and  daring  had 
darted  into  my  brain.  A  chance  had  come  unex- 
pectedly, a  chance  to  seize.  Let  the  Scotchman 
search  tunnels,  I  would  explore  cupboards;  and 
the  Frenchman,  I  promised  myself,  should  receive 
the  surprise  of  his  life. 

On  a  work-table  near  at  hand  I  had  caught 
sight  of  a  bundle  of  cord  when  the  Mexican  girl 
first  entered.  I  groped  about  till  my  fingers 
lighted  on  it,  and  I  was  ready. 


SCOTCH   SECRETS  87 

The  machinist  came  so  leisurely  that  I  grew  im- 
patient; but,  in  the  end,  his  feet  sounded  on  the 
gravel  outside.  He  placed  the  key  in  the  lock, 
turned  it,  pushed  open  the  door,  and,  humming  a 
French  chanson,  paused  for  a  moment  to  look  off 
at  the  town.  The  moonlight  fell  full  upon  him, 
and  I  saw  a  malicious  smile  resting  on  his  round, 
bearded  face.  His  hands  were  clasped  under  the 
tail  of  the  jumper  that  he  had  not  yet  removed 
after  his  day's  work,  and  he  had  the  pose  and 
calm  of  a  priest. 

At  length  he  entered,  leaving  the  door  open. 
Making  a  swift  step  out  from  the  work-table 
where  I  hid,  I  seized  and  jerked  his  elbows  to- 
gether. Sudden  as  my  attack  had  been  he  was 
fighting  before  I  had  him  tripped  and  on  the 
floor.  All  the  strength  and  cunning  of  a  man 
never  more  than  half  off  guard  was  in  his  resist- 
ance; and  his  fat  was  as  deceptive  as  a  coat,  for 
it  covered  sinews  of  steel. 

Twisting,  squirming,  coiling  his  legs  about 
mine,  and  using  them  like  tentacles,  trying  this 
trick  and  that,  never  yielding  and  never  idle,  he 
spoke  not  a  word,  nor  did  I.  In  the  faint  light 
which  enabled  one  dimly  to  see  shapes,  we  fought 
back  and  forth  across  the  floor,  and  our  strained 
breathing  and  the  brush  of  our  bodies  on  the 
planks  were  the  only  sounds.  But  I  had  the  ad- 


88:         THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

vantage  from  the  beginning,  and  six  feet  of  hard- 
ened muscle  wore  him  down. 

At  last  he  yielded,  and  lay  quiet  while  I  tied 
him  hand  and  foot,  and  wrapped  his  head  in  an 
apron.  Then  I  switched  on  the  lights,  and, 
sweating  freely,  leaned  against  an  anvil  to  breathe. 
His  short,  fat  body  reposed  on  the  floor  like  that 
of  a  neatly  trussed  fowl. 

For  the  life  of  me,  the  situation  made  me  smile 
— I  and  my  workman,  supposedly  on  the  best  of 
terms,  grappling  in  the  dark  over  something 
neither  of  us  knew  very  well  what.  I  would  have 
given  much  to  have  been  able  to  read  the  villain's 
thoughts.  And  a  line  out  of  a  play  flashed  into 
my  mind — "  Let  me  have  men  about  me  that  are 
fat" — the  noble  Caesar  never  knew  my  French- 
man! 

I  found  the  keys  in  his  pockets,  from  which  I 
took  them.  Jingling  them,  as  if  I  had  been  a  boy, 
still  smiling  and  in  high  spirits,  I  crossed  the 
room.  Were  I  a  villain,  I  considered,  I  should 
not  put  my  trust  in  women,  good  Frederic. 

The  cupboard  proved  to  be  a  tool  case,  with 
three  shelves  full  of  chisels,  wrenches,  and  drills, 
while  on  the  floor  sat  a  box  of  metal  odds  and 
ends  common  to  any  such  shop.  I  hauled  the  lat- 
ter out,  thrust  a  finger  into  the  auger  hole  bored 
in  the  false  bottom,  and  lifted  the  panel  out.  A 


SCOTCH   SECRETS  89 

dark  hole  was  revealed,  into  which  I  peered;  I 
reached  down,  and  ran  my  hand  about  the  space; 
then  I  sprang  to  my  feet,  flung  down  the  keys, 
and  strode  back  to  my  prostrate  enemy.  I  had 
underestimated  my  opponents'  cunning — the  hole 
was  empty! 

Darkening  the  room  once  more  and  loosening 
the  knot  at  D'Urville's  wrists,  I  went  up  the 
knoll  to  the  house.  During  the  five  minutes 
which  elapsed  before  the  man  freed  himself  and 
I  saw  the  lights  flash  forth  from  the  shop  win- 
daws,  I  bitterly  pondered  my  bootless  adventure, 
and  cursed  the  tricks  of  rascals. 

Toward  eleven  o'clock,  the  party  of  explorers 
returned  from  the  mine.  As  the  wind  blew  them 
in  at  the  door,  I  saw  that  a  change  of  weather 
was  pending;  clouds  sailed  across  the  moon,  a 
stiff  breeze  had  started  up,  and  the  air  smelled 
damp. 

Ethys  Fenton  turned  to  me  with  a  smile. 

'"You're  a  dreadful  stay-at-home,  Mr.  Mait- 
land,  and  you  should  get  rid  of  your  lazy  habits. 
Now,  honest  Injun,  didn't  you  bury  yourself  in  a 
novel  as  soon  as  we  were  gone?" 

"  It  was  a  comedy.  The  characters  were  one 
discomfited  honest  man  and  one  triced  rascal." 

"Was  it  humorous?" 

"  Very." 


90        THE  PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

"  I  hope  you  finished  it,  for  I'm  not  going  to 
allow  you  to  read  again  soon.  You  see,  I've  made 
up  my  mind  to  a  trip  to  Painted  Canon." 

"Am  I  not  to  have  a  ride  to-morrow?"  Doug- 
lass interrupted,  appearing  at  her  elbow. 

"  Mr.  Maitland's  shall  be  first.  He's  waited  a 
week  for  it." 

"  Then  will  come  my  turn,"  Frederic  said,  with 
an  enigmatical  look. 

She  turned  to  me. 

"When  shall  we  go?  I  fear  I'll  be  too  tired 
to-morrow;  and  the  next  day,  Saturday,  may  find 

me  lazy.  Now,  Sunday "  She  paused,  with 

her  eyes  questioning  me. 

"  Sunday  let  it  be,"  said  I.  And  sa  it  was 
arranged. 

The  ladies  gone,  the  rest  of  us  remained  to 
smoke  and  chat.  In  Charlie  Woodworth  I  de- 
tected a  subtle  change.  He  smiled  contentedly 
as  he  watched  the  smoke  rings  curl  up  from  his 
cigar. 

"You're  in  a  ripping  good  humour  to-night, 
Woodworth,"  said  Douglass,  finally. 

"  I  am.  You've  given  us  a  wonderful  evening, 
Duggy  " — the  Scot's  brows  drew  sharply  together 
at  the  word — "and,  by  Jove,  I  never  dreamed 
that  mines  had  it  in  'em ! " 

"Had  what,  if  I  may  venture?" 


SCOTCH   SECRETS  91 

"  Certainly  you  may,"  Charlie  replied  sweetly. 
"The  wonderful  carrying  power  of  the  human 
voice  in  tunnels  is  what  I  referred  to." 

Douglass  moistened  his  lips. 

tc  Do  you  mean — do  you  mean " 

A  sardonic  grin  spread  over  Woodworth's  face. 

"  I  mean  what  I  mean,"  said  he. 

At  this  juncture,  Arlington  broke  up  this  little 
hidden  passage  at  arms  by  saying:  "Yes,  Doug- 
lass, we  must  congratulate  you  on  showing  us 
something  new." 

My  assistant  abruptly  nodded  his  thanks. 

"  He's  to  be  congratulated  on  more  counts  than 
one,"  I  said. 

The  excitement  of  my  adventure  still  pulsed  in 
my  temples,  my  fighting  blood  was  up,  and  I 
was  eager  to  put  my  point  inside  his  guard. 

"How's  that?"  Arlington  inquired. 

"  I'm  confident  that  what  I  have  to  tell  will 
delight  you  all,  and  the  ladies  in  particular.  Eh, 
Frederic,  you  sly  fox !  " 

I  clapped  him  jovially  on  the  shoulder  where 
he  sat  near  me.  He  knew  now  he  was  being 
baited;  he  straightened,  snuffing  danger.  I  caught 
Mr.  Fenton's  eyes  fixed  on  me,  and  he  leaned 
forward,  feeling  that  something  was  crystallising. 

"What  bogie  tale  have  you  heard  now?" 
Douglass  asked. 


92        THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

But  I  knew  the  value  of  suspense.  I  smiled 
importantly. 

'  You're  darn  provoking,"  Charlie  said.     "  It 
must  be  good  or  you  wouldn't  nurse  it." 

"Why,  it's  excellent,"  I  answered. 

Douglass'  patience  was  suddenly  worn  to  a  fine 
edge. 

"  Out  with  it,  man,"  he  exclaimed.  "  Make  it 
the  truth,  top.  I'm  in  no  mood  to-night  for  any 
musty  canard." 

"  This  news  is  perfectly  fresh,  my  boy."  I  re- 
turned his  look  composedly.  "  It's  nothing  less 
than  your  prospective  marriage  with  the  Mexican 
girl  down  in  the  village." 

He  leaped  to  his  feet,  and  stood  as  if  thunder- 
struck. 

"  I !  "  he  cried.     "  I— good  Lord,  no !  " 

His  face  was  pale  as  linen,  his  eyes  shot  mur- 
der at  mine.  I  gave  him  my  last  charge. 

"The  girl  told  me  so  with  her  own  lips  not 
two  hours  ago." 

Charlie  thrust  his  hand  enthusiastically  out  to 
me,  choking  with  laughter.  Arlington  blinked 
from  one  to  the  other  of  us.  Mr.  Fenton  folded 
his  arms,  and  settled  back,  a  gleam  showing  under 
his  shaggy  brows. 

"  Good  Lord,  no !  "  Douglass  muttered  again. 

Well,  that  ended  the  session. 


CHAPTER  VII 

A  TAUNT  AND  A  BLOW 

THE  performance  of  a  good  deed,  we  are  told, 
carries  its  own  reward.  Whether  or  not  the  dis- 
comfiture I  caused  Douglass  comes  within  the 
category  of  good  deeds  I  leave  you  to  decide. 
Personally,  I  hold  that  it  does,  and  if  we  can 
believe  history  I  do  not  hold  alone;  for  formerly 
witches  were  soused  in  ponds,  heretics  hanged  out 
of  hand,  and  the  devil  himself  singed  by  fire — all 
of  which  practices  produce  pleasurable  sensations, 
perhaps  moral  exaltation,  in  the  breasts  of  those 
who  presided  over  the  ceremonies.  On  my  part, 
I  know  I  experienced  a  strong  and  increasing  sat- 
isfaction in  having  singed  Douglass;  and  the 
effect  upon  him  was  early  marked. 

He  waxed  respectful,  cautious,  even  polite.  He 
seemed,  in  addition,  to  have  fallen  into  the  dumps, 
partly  due  to  the  embarrassment  of  his  love  affairs 
and  partly  due,  I  supposed  at  the  time,  to  the 
change  of  skies. 

The  unsettled  weather  lasted  out  the  week. 
Friday  was  rainy,  Saturday  sharp  and  windy.  As 
nothing  compares  with  mountains  for  brightness 

93 


94         THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

on  a  fine  day,  so  nothing  matches  their  stormy 
gloom.  Our  guests  hugged  the  house.  On  Sat- 
urday morning  it  chanced  that  Mr.  Arlington  rose 
an  hour  before  his  accustomed  time.  He  found 
me  at  breakfast,  to  which  he  sat  down. 

After  we  had  chatted  a  while,  he  inquired: 

"What's  a  Mex,  Maitland?" 

"Abbreviation  for  Mexican." 

He  stroked  his  pointed  beard,  and  meditated. 

"Yesterday  afternoon  Douglass  introduced  me 
into  Pelan's " 

"You  touched  the  muddy  bottom  of  Forge, 
there,"  I  said. 

He  dropped  a  lump  of  sugar  in  his  coffee,  and 
laughed. 

"  I  should  say  so !  The  rainy-day  crowd  was 
present,  mostly  drunk.  And  it  was  there  I  heard 
a  big  fellow  named  Long  Pete  use  the  word 
1  Mex.' " 

"  I  know  him.  The  worst  knave  in  camp — 
save  two,"  I  interrupted. 

"Well,  this  Long  Pete  had  a  young  chap  cor- 
nered close  by  me,"  he  went  on,  "  and  I  over- 
heard part  of  their  talk' — some  business  deal.  I'll 
wager  that  Wall  Street  never  heard  talk  to  equal 
it.  The  boy  declined  to  accept  the  man's  pro- 
posal, whatever  it  was,  and  Long  Pete  went  at 
him  in  this  fashion: 


A   TAUNT   AND   A   BLOW          95 

" '  A  thousand  in  cash  you'll  have,  and  ride  in 
a  taxi  like  a  sport.' 

" '  It's  dirty  work,  and  I'll  not  go  into  it,'  the 
boy  answered. 

"'You'll  get  the  Mex,  too,  along  with  the 
cash,  and  have  a  wife  for  winter  nights.' 

"'Blamed  if  I'll  take  a  Britisher's  tailings,' 
the  boy  spoke  up. 

"  That's  another  new  word  to  me,  Maitland — 
tailings." 

"A  mining  term,  meaning  refuse,  leavings 
from  the  sluices,"  I  explained. 

"  I  see.  They  then  had  it  back  and  forth,  their 
talk  sprinkled  with  curses,  and  the  boy  finally 
threatened  to  tell  you.  'You  squeal,'  said  Pete, 
'  and  I'll  cut  your  throat  and  throw  you  to  the 
birds.'  The  matter  ended  by  Douglass  stopping 
them,  with  a  hand  on  each  of  their  shoulders, 
saying  he  would  see  the  young  chap  later;  then 
they  all  took  a  drink." 

He  leaned  back  in  his  chair,  and  indulged  in  a 
hearty  laugh. 

"  I  thought,"  he  continued,  "  that  I  was  really 
going  to  see  a  murder;  but  the  nearest  they  got 
to  it  was  by  drinking  Pelan's  sure-death  whis- 
key." 

As  I  ate  my  breakfast,  I  speculated  on  what 
their  conversation  might  involve.  If  I  did  not 


96        THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

guess  wrong,  there  was  something  here  more  seri- 
ous than  a  mere  quarrel  between  miners.  What 
was  at  stake?  What  was  it  he  had  vowed  to 
tell  me? 

"Did  you  hear  Pete  call  his  name?  Was  it 
Joe  Lowden?"  I  asked. 

Arlington  nodded. 

Forge  boasted  plenty  of  young  fellows  of  the 
wild,  graceless  breed,  but  few  who  were  steady 
going;  the  latter  could  be  counted  on  the  fingers 
of  one  hand,  and  of  these  Lowden  had  been  the 
best,  until  a  month  before,  when  he  took  suddenly 
to  drink  and  reckless  habits. 

The  cause  of  the  change  was  no  secret.  He 
loved  the  Mexican  girl,  in  whose  favour  he  had 
stood  well  until  Douglass  came.  Had  another 
man  of  the  Scot's  position  gone  among  the  miners' 
daughters  for  the  sheer  sport  of  winning  one  away 
from  her  lover,  he  would  have  met  with  only  bit- 
ter contempt  and  the  united  hatred  of  the  camp. 
Here  appeared  the  power  of  the  Scotchman's 
charm.  He  held  Forge  to  his  side,  and  more, 
brought  down  upon  the  boy's  luckless  head  a 
shower  of  gibes.  I  recollected  this,  and  was  at  a 
loss  to  surmise  what  Long  Pete  Gurley  and  Doug- 
lass were  contriving  in  respect  to  Joe  Lowden. 

"Well,"  said  I,  rising  from  the  table,  "the 
young  fellow  was  right  in  refusing  the  deal,  what- 


A   TAUNT   AND   A   BLOW          97 

ever  it  was.  Pete  is  generally  mixed  in  some  busi- 
ness that  won't  bear  inspection." 

A  servant  brought  my  horse  to  the  door,  and  I 
mounted.  Charlie  Woodworth  stood  bareheaded 
out  upon  the  avenue,  pumping  air  into  his  lungs 
at  a  great  rate,  and  blowing  it  forth  again  with 
the  gusto  of  a  porpoise. 

"  I'm  exercising,"  he  let  escape,  between  fills. 

"You're  overdoing  it,"  I  said. 

Once  more  he  puffed  up  like  a  pouter  pigeon 
and  exhaled  profoundly. 

"Now  that's  done,  I'm  ready  to  eat.  Here  is 
your  morning  mail."  And  he  extended  a  dirty, 
crumpled  envelope. 

"What's  that  thing?"  I  asked,  looking  down 
from  my  saddle. 

"  I  found  it  on  the  doorstep,  like  a  foundling." 

My  name  was  scrawled  in  pencil  on  the  cover. 
I  reached  for  it,  and  thrust  it  into  my  pocket.  It 
was  one  of  the  kind  I  received  the  morning  after 
every  "  day  off,"  poor,  badly  written,  tear-stained 
epistles  from  miners'  wives,  imploring  me  to  keep 
their  husbands  sober.  They  were  little  side  lights 
on  sordid  tragedies.  I  counted  on  having  them 
regularly,  and  as  regularly  I  called  up  the  wife- 
beaters  and  rated  them  till  they  hung  their  heads 
— a  sort  of  unofficial  duty  in  which  I  took  little 
pleasure. 


98         THE  PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

"  Is  it  from  a  lady?"  Charlie  inquired,  with  ex- 
aggerated politeness. 

"It  is." 

"  Fie  on  you — and  at  this  time  in  the  morn- 
ing!" 

I  made  a  cut  at  him  with  my  reins,  and  he 
dodged,  laughing,  under  the  portico. 

"  Get  on  in  to  your  breakfast,"  I  advised. 

"  Devilish  poor  taste  in  correspondents  you 
show,"  was  his  impudent  rejoinder. 

On  my  ride  through  the  street  of  the  village, 
I  came  across  the  young  sheep  herder  with  whom 
our  party  camped  at  Raging  River.  His  eyes  were 
bloodshot,  his  face  flushed,  and  he  was  very  un- 
steady on  his  feet. 

"You  look  sick,"  I  said,  pulling  up. 

"  I  am,"  he  replied,  not  lifting  his  eyes. 

"Drunk?" 

"Yes." 

"Where's  your  sheep?  You  stand  a  good 
chance  of  being  fired  if  the  owner  learns  of  this." 

"  I  know  it — and  I  ought  to  be."  He  waved 
toward  the  hills  north  of  town. 

"They're  over  there." 

"  Come,  get  back  at  once,"  I  encouraged. 
"  Don't  take  one  slip  so  much  to  heart." 

For  a  moment  he  said  nothing. 

"  I  can't  go   back,"   he   said,   presently.      "  I 


A   TAUNT   AND   A   BLOW          99 

came  to  town  for  grub,  and  got  to  drinking,  and 
now  the  money's  gone." 

"What's  the  matter  with  your  camp  tender? 
Why  didn't  he  come?" 

"  I  haven't  any.  He  quit  last  week.  I  thought 
being  so  near  town  I  could  leave  the  sheep  a 
while." 

"  Tell  me  your  name,"  said  I. 

"  Dave  Corry." 

I  slipped  my  hand  into  my  pocket,  and  drew 
out  a  twenty-dollar  gold  piece. 

"Here's  a  stake.     Better  luck  next  time." 

He  stared  as  if  he  could  not  believe  his  ears 
and  eyes,  then  slowly  reached  for  it.  He  squared 
his  shoulders,  and  looked  up  at  me. 

"  I'll  pay  it  back,"  he  said.  "  You're  the  man- 
ager, aren't  you  ?  I  saw  you  that  night  at  Raging 
River.  You're  better  than  the  rest  here."  He 
scowled  for  an  instant  around  at  the  town.  "  I'll 
buy  my  grub  and  hike."  He  started  away,  but 
turned  and  came  back.  "  Shake  hands,  will  you?  " 

I  shook  his  hand  as  he  desired. 

"  Pelan  sells  pretty  stiff  poison,"  I  laughed. 

"  My  stomach's  all  burnt  out,"  he  said.  And 
we  parted. 

At  the  mines  where  I  spent  the  day,  work  pro- 
gressed under  difficulties.  After  their  yesterday's 
debauch,  half  the  men  were  more  fit  for  bed  than 


ioo      THE    PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

for  the  gravel  pits.  Splitting  heads,  touchy  tem- 
pers, and  waspish  tongues  were  everywhere;  the 
sober  half  jeered  the  half  not  so  sober,  and  quar- 
rels ran  among  them  like  water.  Only  by  holding 
a  strong  hand  on  them  and  by  keeping  the  work 
driving  hard  did  I  prevent  open  fights. 

Late  in  the  afternoon,  wrangling  broke  out 
among  a  group  of  miners  of  which  Joe  Lowden 
was  one.  The  men  scoffed  at  him  for  the  jilting 
he  had  received  at  the  hands  of  his  sweetheart. 
Such  abuse  was  cruel  at  any  time,  but  doubly  so 
now  when  the  boy  was  sick  in  body  and  spirit 
from  carousing.  As  I  ran  up  to  the  spot,  he  flung 
down  his  shovel,  and  faced  them. 

"You're  a  pack  of  liars!"  he  cried.  "I  can 
whip  you  all — come  on,  you  cowards !  " 

"  Go  back  to  your  work,  Joe,"  I  said.  "  I  will 
stop  this  badgering." 

He  whirled  round,  glaring  like  an  animal 
goaded  to  fury. 

"  Put  me  in  another  gang.  I  won't  work  with 
them." 

Had  I  changed  every  man  who  asked  me  that 
day,  the  placer  would  have  been  running  to  and 
fro  like  a  nest  of  ants. 

"  No,  Joe,  I  can't  change  you,"  I  said.  "  This 
is  your  regular  gang." 

"I'll  not  work  here,"  he  growled. 


A   TAUNT   AND   A   BLOW         101 

"Take  up  your  shovel,"  I  ordered. 

"  No." 

"  Then  get  your  time." 

He  turned  white.  Until  this  minute,  his  record 
in  the  company's  books  was  a  clean  one,  and,  like 
every  good  workingman,  he  was  proud  of  it. 

I  made  another  appeal. 

"Go  to  work,  Joe.  Don't  go  wrong  when 
there's  the  making  of  a  foreman  in  you,  and  per- 
haps something  better."  His  rigid  body  began 
to  relax. 

From  one  of  the  men  came  a  low,  sneering 
laugh.  It  touched  the  boy  like  flame;  the  red 
light  flashed  anew  into  his  eyes,  he  clinched  his 
hands  and  shook  them. 

"  I'll  quit,"  he  burst  out,  with  a  stream  of  blas- 
phemy, "  quit  the  mine ! — and  the  camp ! — and 
Forge !  An  honest  man  can't  live  in  it.  A  damn, 
tallow-headed  Scotchman  steals  my  girl,  and  the 
camp  laughs.  A  thieving  manager  steals  the  com- 
pany's gold " 

"  Stop !  "  I  cried. 

I  caught  him  by  the  shoulder,  but  he  tore  him- 
self loose.  His  fist  shot  out,  catching  me  between 
the  eyes,  and  I  staggered  back,  dazed  and  as- 
tounded. The  next  I  knew  I  had  him  by  the 
throat,  shaking  him  as  a  dog  does  a  rat,  and,  at 
last,  I  flung  him  from  me.  My  cheeks  were  white, 


102      THE    PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

for  I  always  pale  when  angry,  and  for  some  sec- 
onds I  said  nothing  while  holding  myself  in  con- 
trol. It  was  a  crisis1 — I  had  been  struck  before 
my  men. 

Joe  Lowden  struggled  to  his  feet,  staring  about 
this  way  and  that  in  an  unseeing  mist,  and  fin- 
gering his  throat.  The  life  was  all  gone  out  of 
him,  leaving  him  weak  and  livid. 

"Go!"  I  ordered. 

He  wavered,  made  off  slowly  toward  the  road, 
where  he  lagged,  and  finally  sat  down  on  a 
boulder  with  his  head  in  his  hands. 

A  little  laugh  had  ruined  the  boy;  it  also  threat- 
ened my  mastery.  I  stepped  to  the  laugher,  who 
stood  still  grinning,  and,  without  a  word,  I  drove 
my  fist  squarely  into  his  mouth.  He  went  down 
like  an  ox. 

"Get  up!"  I  said. 

He  climbed  wrathfully  upon  his  legs,  and  made 
a  swing  at  me.  Again  I  shot  my  fist  to  his  bleed- 
ing mouth,  and  again  he  measured  full  length. 

"Stand  up  and  laugh  once  more,  you  brute!" 
I  said. 

But  he  continued  to  lie,  while  I  bullied  him  and 
jeered  him,  until  his  comrades  began  to  jeer  also, 
since  most  men  like  to  be  on  the  strong  side.  By 
that  I  knew  I  had  successfully  passed  the  crisis, 
and  would  hereafter  be  respected. 


He  went  down  like  an  ox 


A   TAUNT   AND   A   BLOW         103 

I  gave  the  fellow  a  contemptuous,  concluding 
kick. 

"  Never  show  your  face  in  the  placer  again,"  I 
said.  And  he  rose  and  went  cursing  away. 

Young  Lowden's  remorseful  figure  stuck  in  my 
mind.  Miners  are  of  the  roughest,  and  require 
a  rod  of  iron ;  and  I  did  not  regret  my  part.  But 
I  regretted  the  occurrence,  and  so  went  to  where 
he  sat  and  stopped  in  front  of  him.  He  looked 
up,  haggard,  dull,  sick  in  soul. 

"  Joe,  you've  made  a  fool  of  yourself  this  month 
past,"  I  said.  "  You've  almost  broken  your  good, 
widowed  mother's  heart,  and  to-day  is  worst  of 
all." 

"  I  can't  go  home  now,"  he  answered,  "to  have 
her  learn  of  this." 

"That's  exactly  what  you  must  do.  Tell  her 
first,  before  some  one  else  does,  and  I'll  stop  and 
have  a  talk  with  her,  too.  Don't  make  a  bad 
matter  worse,  either,  by  leaving  Forge.  I  can't 
put  you  back  in  the  mine,  but  I'll  give  you  a  supply 
wagon  to  drive.  Brace  up,  man,  tighten  your 
belt  a  notch,  and  start  over." 

He  brooded  for  a  time  before  speaking. 

;*  They  had  me  crazy,  Mr.  Maitland.  I  didn't 
know  I  hit  you  till  it  was  over.  I  wouldn't  have 
done  it  on  purpose  for  all  the  yellow  dirt  along 
the  river." 


!io4      THE   PRINCESS   OF  FORGE 

Shaking  his  head,  he  started  down  the  road 
toward  home.  I  made  a  circuit  of  the  placer, 
ready  to  suppress  any  fresh  insubordination;  but 
my  one  stroke  had  been  sufficient,  and  discipline 
reigned.  The  dove  of  peace  might  have  nested 
in  the  gravel  pits,  so  obediently  did  the  men  move 
to  the  foremen's  orders.  After  fifteen  minutes' 
inspection,  I  mounted  my  horse,  and  set  out  for 
town. 

'Halfway  to  Forge,  the  road  closely  skirts  the 
river  and  dips  across  a  lightly  wooded  gully.  Here 
I  came  on  Pete  Gurley  talking  to  Joe  Lowden, 
and  at  the  moment  they  drew  into  view  I  caught 
a  glimpse  of  a  familiar  figure  vanishing  in  the 
underbrush.  The  man's  whole  manner  as  he  con- 
cealed himself  reminded  me  of  a  naughty  child 
trapped  in  a  pantry  and  scurrying  from  punish- 
ment. Long  Pete  and  Lowden  were  too  occupied 
in  argument  to  notice  me  until  I  was  in  earshot. 

"  No,"  Joe  was  saying. 

"  I  say  you  will,"  Pete  retorted. 

"  No." 

"  You'll  join  us,  or  take  the  worst." 

"I  won't!" 

"Look  here,  young  fellow "  And  then 

perceived  me  and  fell  silent. 

"What  was  that  animal,  Pete,  that  jumped  in 
the  bushes?"  I  asked,  with  a  grim  smile. 


A  TAUNT  AND   A   BLOW         105, 

He  shifted  uneasily:     "A  rabbit." 

"Ah!  a  blue-eyed  Scotch  rabbit,  perhaps?" 

"No." 

"  If  I  had  a  gun,  my  friend,  I'd  wager  I  could 
crease  its  long  ears  even  now  where  it  lies." 

"  Rabbit  ain't  good  this  time  of  year." 

"True,  they're  not,"  I  agreed,  with  a  gravity 
matching  his  own.  "  Well,  possibly  we'll  catch  it 
later,  and  broil  it  over  a  fire." 

I  rode  on.  When  I  had  gone  a  hundred  yards, 
I  thought  I  heard  the  boy  shouting  after  me;  but, 
on  halting  and  looking  back,  I  judged  I  had  been 
mistaken.  The  gully  hid  them,  and  the  road  was 
empty  and  silent  under  the  grey  sky,  across  which 
scudded  tatters  and  rags  of  fog. 

At  the  door  of  Mrs.  Lowden's  house  I  had  a 
word  with  Joe's  mother,  informing  her  of  her 
son's  outbreak,  and  explaining  how  I  intended, 
hereafter,  to  take  him  in  hand.  The  good  woman 
told  me  her  fears,  and  assented  eagerly  to  my 
plan. 

"You'll  be  proud  of  him  yet,"  I  said,  as  I 
turned  to  go  to  Forge  House. 

I  was  glad  the  matter  was  settled.  Nor  did  I 
dream,  as  I  glanced  back  over  the  road  I  had  just 
travelled,  that  it  had  been  settled  in  a  fashion 
which  would  shake  Forge  to  its  foundations  and 
hang  a  sharp  sword  above  my  head. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

FREDERIC,   THE   GENEROUS ! 

SUNDAY  dawned  clear  and  fine.  The  day  was  one 
of  warm  sunshine,  blue  skies,  and  crystal  air.  The 
wind  of  the  previous  twenty-four  hours  had  dried 
the  mountains,  and  the  road  along  the  river  looked 
as  if  It  had  been  newly  macadamised.  At  four 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  Ethys  Fenton  and  I 
stepped  from  under  the  portico,  and  put  foot  in 
stirrup  for  our  ride  to  Painted  Canon — the  name 
she  had  given  it — planning  to  get  back  to  Forge 
by  seven,  the  dinner  hour. 

As  we  gathered  our  reins,  she  pointed  at  the 
town. 

"What  does  that  mean?" 

"Well,  by  Jove!"  I  exclaimed. 

For  a  fact,  something  was  occurring  there.  The 
street  was  full  of  a  crowd  just  before  the  stores, 
a  mob  swaying  and  surging  about  with  others  run- 
ning to  join  it;  and  I  swear  that  every  man,  wo- 
man, and  child  in  Forge  was  either  at  the  spot,  or 
hurrying  to  it.  A  low,  deep  noise  of  a  hundred 
blended  voices  rose  from  the  swarm. 

Charlie  Woodworth  and  Mr.  Fenton  had  fol- 
106 


FREDERIC,   THE   GENEROUS!     107 

lowed  us  out  upon  the  avenue,  and  now  the  former 
said: 

"A  row,  I'll  bet." 

"  Probably,"  Mr.  Fenton  responded. 

"It  may  mean  anything,"  I  said.  "An  acci- 
dent, a  strike  of  a  big  nugget,  or,  as  you  say,  noth- 
ing but  a  fight  between  a  couple  of  miners.  I 
fear,  Miss  Fenton,  that  I  must  postpone  my 
ride." 

"  It  can  be  nothing  serious,"  she  answered. 

"  But  I  must  go  down,  and  probably  will  be  de- 
layed." 

A  slight  frown  appeared  on  her  brow. 

"  If  we  don't  take  it  now,  I'll  never  take  it 
with  you." 

In  surprise  I  looked  twice  at  her,  and  then  I  re- 
membered that  for  two  hours  past,  ever  since  a 
conversation  she  had  had  with  Douglass,  from 
which  she  came  with  a  heightened  colour,  she  had 
been  possessed  by  a  peculiar  mood.  She  sat  straight 
on  her  horse,  her  shoulders  defiant,  and  her  brows 
knitted. 

But  the  assemblage  in  front  of  the  stores 
troubled  me,  as  does  a  premonition. 

"  Hang  it  all,  to  happen  to-day! "  I  said. 

;'  There  are  other  men  here  capable  of  suppress- 
ing riots,  I  suppose,"  was  her  next  exasperating 
remark. 


io8      THE   PRINCESS   OF  FORGE 

"  Let  us  hope  I'm  not  so  great  an  egotist  as  to 
think  otherwise." 

She  coolly  faced  her  uncle. 

"  Mr.  Maitland  talks  of  stopping  his  ride. 
That's  nonsense." 

"  I'll  attend  to  the  matter,"  Mr.  Fenton  replied. 
"  Go  ahead  with  your  gallop." 

"  But  I  want  to  be  there,  if " 

"I'll  take  the  responsibility.  Charlie,  get  my 
hat."  And,  at  the  prospect  of  some  sort  of  action 
after  two  or  three  weeks  of  idling,  his  grey  eyes 
snapped. 

Charlie  raced  into  the  house  and  out  again  with 
a  hat  in  each  hand. 

"  I  hope  it's  a  row,  or  a  war  scare,  or  a  shindy 
of  some  kind,"  he  yelped  as  he  emerged  from  the 
portico.  "  I'll  help.  Go  on  with  your  ride,  and 
miss  the  fun.  Mr.  Fenton  and  I  will  break 
heads." 

Ethys  Fenton  and  I  swung  our  horses'  noses 
about,  and  set  off  down  the  knoll  to  the  west. 
We  had  made  hardly  a  dozen  steps  when  a  louder 
roar  boomed  up  from  the  town.  I  jerked  my 
horse  up  short.  Every  face  was  toward  Forge 
House,  a  hundred  hands  pointed.  Down  to  the 
mob  strode  Mr.  Fenton  and  long-legged  Char- 
lie. 

"Listen!"  I  cried. 


FREDERIC,   THE   GENEROUS!     109 

"Well,  they're  only  making  a  noise,"  she  an- 
swered, unconcerned. 

"  I'm  a  pretty  manager,  riding  off  when — by 
Heaven,  I  must  go  back!  " 

"  Suit  yourself,  Mr.  Maitland,"  she  rejoined. 

"  Don't  think  that  it's  because  I  want  to  go,"  I 
said,  with  rather  more  warmth  than  was  war- 
ranted. 

"  That's  the  very  thing  I'm  beginning  to  think." 

I  scowled — I  am  frank  to  state  that  it  was  a 
heavy,  impolite,  plain  scowl;  and  the  while  she 
hummed  an  air  and  pulled  at  her  gauntlets  and 
gazed  at  the  mountains.  If  ever  an  ordinarily 
sweet,  reasonable,  winsome  girl  was  possessed  of 
a  spirit  of  perverseness,  it  was  she.  Her  chin  was 
lifted  stubbornly,  her  whole  figure  breathed  con- 
trariness. 

"  Very  well,"  I  said,  "let  us  proceed;  but " 

"  No  more  *  buts,'  if  you  please.  You  ought  to 
go  back,  you  would  say — for  the  hundredth  time. 
And  what  does  it  all  mean? — also,  for  the  hun- 
dredth time."  Which  was  the  identical  thing 
troubling  me. 

What  did  it  mean?  But  Ethys  was  more  to 
me  than  the  happenings  at  Forge,  and  so  we 
went  on. 

The  road  was  level  for  the  first  mile,  and  we 
took  it  at  a  gallop.  The  air  rushed  against  our 


no      THE   PRINCESS   OF  FORGE 

faces;  our  horses'  feet  beat  a  steady  roll  on  the 
earth;  and  the  white  veil  on  my  companion's  hat 
streamed  behind  her  in  the  sunlight.  Neither  of 
us  spoke.  Then  came  rougher  ground  where  the 
mountains  crowded  in  against  the  river,  barring 
the  way  with  their  immense  shoulders.  As  the 
horses  climbed  a  rise,  Ethys  said: 

"Are  you  still  remorseful?" 

"  I'm  more  than  ever  convinced  that — that  my 
heart  is  leading  my  head,"  I  replied. 

"Mercy!  A  compliment?  Why,  that  is  bet- 
ter." 

Up  and  down  the  slopes  we  went,  almost  touch- 
ing the  river  at  times,  at  others  passing  high  above 
it,  high  as  an  eagle's  eyrie.  Down  in  the  river's 
bed  the  water  foamed  and  boiled  among  rocks, 
for  both  river  and  canon  were  growing  narrower. 
At  last,  we  mounted  over  a  huge  granite  ledge, 
and  sighted  our  destination  four  or  five  miles  be- 
yond, where  the  canon  seemed  a  mere  crevice  in 
the  mountain  range,  full  of  purple  light. 

"  Yonder  is  my  rainbow  gorge,"  she  said,  point- 
ing. 

In  front  of  us  the  ledge  inclined  for  half  a  mile, 
making  one  side  of  a  ravine  which  ran  out  of  the 
northwest  and  sloped  to  the  river.  A  green  ribbon 
of  woods  and  bushes  lay  in  its  bottom  where  turn- 


Up  and  down  the  slopes  we  went  " 


FREDERIC,  THE  GENEROUS!  in 

bled  a  little  brook,  which  emerged  from  a  thicket 
to  run  across  the  road;  the  ford  was  a  white 
shingle  of  sand  over  which  the  brook  spread  shim- 
mering and  rippling;  and  then  the  stream  gath- 
ered itself  once  more  together  and  slipped  out  of 
sight  under  a  green,  leafy  arch,  and  only  the  tinkle 
of  water  marked  its  farther  progress. 

Our  horses  broke  into  a  trot  upon  the  lowest 
slope,  and,  reaching  the  creek,  thrust  their  noses 
into  the  limpid  water,  drinking  thirstily. 

"  Some  one  has  left  a  cup,"  said  Ethys.  "  Let's 
rest  a  while.  What  a  beautiful  dell  this  is !  " 

Alighting,  I  made  a  place  for  her  on  a  log  that 
protruded  from  the  thicket,  secured  the  horses  to 
an  up-thrust  fork  of  it,  and  dipped  her  a  cup  of 
the  cool  water. 

"  I'll  strike  a  bargain  with  you  over  this  bat- 
tered chalice,"  said  I,  holding  up  the  dipping  tin. 
"  I  will  forget  my  troubled  Forge  if  you  will  ban- 
ish what  is  weighing  your  own  mind." 

Her  eyes  flashed,  as  if  in  anger,  but  I  returned 
her  look  without  flinching;  then  she  considered, 
and  her  brow  cleared,  and  her  lips  parted  in  a 
racliant,  beautiful  smile. 

"  Keen  man !  I  could  not  mask  my  mental 
vagaries." 

"And  the  bargain?" 


ii2      THE   PRINCESS   OF  FORGE 

She  put  out  her  hand. 

"  With  all  my  heart,  for  to-day,  at  least.  I  had 
some  small  matters  that  annoyed  me — a  disagree- 
ment with  Mr.  Douglass,  and,  besides,  I  was  tired 
of  Forge  and  my  own  chatter,  and  wished  fresh 
air.  Was  I  very  disagreeable?  I  have  my  ob- 
stinate moods  like  other  folks." 

"  A  divine  right  of  princesses." 

"Ah!  I  wish  I  were  a  real  princess,"  she  said. 
"  I'd  build  me  a  castle  on  Anvil  Rock,  like  those 
along  the  Rhine." 

"  And,  as  happened  to  them,  it  would  probably 
be  invaded." 

"I  would  expect  that,  to  lend  plausibility  and 
feudal  atmosphere.  Would  you  lead  the  storming 
party?" 

I  leaned  forward,  and  dipped  a  cup  of  water, 
and  looked  into  it. 

"  Let  me  consult  the  omens  of  Hydro- 
mancy " 

"  How  deliciously  mysterious !  " 

"I  see  in  the  depths  of  this  Sibylline  cup  the 
Princess  of  Forge  in  her  battlemented  castle;  I 
see  myself,  not  with  a  storming  party,  but  singly 
and  alone,  ride — — " 

"  But  that  is  not  according  to  history." 

"  I  see  it  in  the  cup." 

"  One  man  cannot  take  a  castle." 


FREDERIC,   THE   GENEROUS!     113 

"  By  boldness.  All  is  fair  in  war  and — one 
other  thing." 

Our  eyes  met.  I  slowly  poured  out  the  water 
upon  the  sand. 

"That  other  thing  must  be  mining,"  she 
laughed.  "At  least  you  were  bold  yesterday, 
knocking  down  two  men." 

I  started,  for  not  a  word  of  my  clash  had 
escaped  my  lips. 

"Where  did  you  hear  of  that?"  I  asked 
quickly. 

"  Why,  Mr.  Douglass  told  me  you  struck  a  boy 
because " 

"  A  boy !  He's  as  healthy  a  specimen  of  young 
fellow  as  lives  in  Forge." 

"  Because  he  accused  you  of — of " 

"  I'll  have  something  for  Douglass'  ear  when 
we  return,"  I  said  grimly. 

"  You're  angry.  There's  nothing  to  be  ashamed 
of.  You  ought  to  be  proud  to  have  people  know 
you  can  rule  the  camp." 

"  I'm  not.  Go  on,  please.  What  was  it  I  am 
accused  of?" 

"The  miners  were  saying  that  something  is 
wrong  at  Forge  House,  a  ghost  in  the  cellar, 
or  a  skeleton  in  the  office  closet,  or  a — some- 
thing." 

My  blood  began  to  run  a  little  hotter  at  the 


n4      THE   PRINCESS   OF  FORGE 

thought  of  the  Scotchman's  cunning  insinuation. 
He  had  placed  it  where  it  would  do  me  the  most 
injury  and  him  the  most  good. 

"  Be  frank,  Miss  Fenton,"  I  said. 

"  After  all,  it's  only  gossip." 

"  I  wish  to  know  it." 

"  Just  a  mere  fly-about  word." 

"  Then  one  should  not  believe  it,"  I  said,  taking 
another  tack. 

"  I  don't  believe  it  I "  she  fired  up.  "  I — I  just 
heard  it." 

"  Nor  listen." 

"Are  you  reprimanding  me,  Mr.  Maitland?" 
she  answered,  with  spirit.  "  Hearing  is  not  be- 
lieving, and  when  it  concerns  one's  friends  it's 
different.  I  do  not  fear  to  tell  you  what  the  gossip 
is ;  they  say  you  took  company  gold — there ! " 

"Ah I"  I  said,  inwardly  smiling  at  the  success 
of  my  stratagem. 

"  Is  that  all  you  have  to  say,  sir?  " 

I  turned  to  her,  smiling. 

"No;  I'll  say  this,  Miss  Fenton,  that  I  appreci- 
ate your  kindness  in  bringing  me  here  to  tell  me 
of  the  gossip,  to  warn  me.  It  was  that  silly  story 
that's  been  troubling  you  since  your  conversation 
with  Mr.  Douglass,  wasn't  it?  You  must  not  let 
a  little  thing  like  that  worry  you."  She  remained 
staring  at  the  sand  and  tapping  her  boot  with  the 


FREDERIC,   THE   GENEROUS!     115 

loop  of  the  crop  she  carried.  "The  gold's  miss- 
ing, that  much  of  the  tale  is  true,  and  I  informed 
your  uncle  of  the  fact  days  ago." 

"  But  it's  a  dreadful  story,"  she  mused. 

"It  could  be  worse.  I  might  actually  have 
taken  it." 

"No  one  who  knows  you  could  conceive  of 
that,"  she  declared  warmly. 

"  Some  have,"  I  grimly  retorted. 

"  Mr.  Douglass  told  me  the  gossip  among  the 
miners,  and  said  he  did  not  believe  it,  and  that 
he  was  worried  that  it  was  talked." 

"That  was  very  loyal  of  Frederic,"  I  said 
drily. 

"  He  said  you  were  too  honest,"  she  went  on, 
fixing  her  eyes  on  mine  with  a  peculiar  smile,  "  and 
that  while  some  men  made  mistakes  by  advancing 
company's  money  to  themselves  for  private  gam- 
bling debts,  he  could  not  imagine  you  doing  any 
such  thing.  Even  if  you  had  done  such  a  thing, 
he  said,  he  was  so  fond  of  you  that  he'd  rather 
replace  the  shortage  out  of  his  own  pocket  than 
see  you  caught  short." 

"Just  like  the  honest,  generous  fellow  he  is!" 
I  exclaimed. 

"  And  he  thinks  it  so  hard  to  explain,  as  no  one 
but  you  has  the  safe  combination.  He  declared  it 
a  great  puzzle.  And  the  gold  being  in  the  man- 


n6      THE    PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

ager's  care  alone,  and  no  one  else  able  to  touch 
it » 

She  paused,  and  gazed  at  me  with  the  same 
strange  smile  she  had  worn  while  speaking. 

"Surely,  I  must  be  the  thief,"  I  said,  "with 
such  conclusive  evidence  against  me." 

"No;  he  says  it's  a  mystery — just  a  mystery." 

"What  do  you  say?" 

"  I  ?  Oh,  I  agreed  with  him  that  it  was  all  very 
mysterious." 

I  rose  to  my  feet  and  faced  her. 

"  Frederic  Douglass  makes  out  a  very  pretty 
case  against  me,"  I  said. 

"  He  explained  most  carefully  that  he  did  not 
believe  you  to  be  the  thief,"  she  answered,  her 
eyelids  lowered. 

"  Douglass  should  have  been  a  lawyer,"  I  went 
on,  "  for  he's  most  wonderfully  apt  at  suggesting 
one  thing  while  speaking  the  opposite.  I  might 
have  debts;  I  might  have  embezzled  the  gold; 
I  am  the  only  one  knowing  the  secret  of  the  com- 
bination; he  doesn't  know  of  any  one  who  could 
possibly  have  taken  it  but  me;  he  would  willingly 
give  money  out  of  his  own  pocket  to  get  me  out 
of  the  scrape — had  I  stolen  the  gold.  Why,  that 
would  convict  a  man  in  a  courtroom.  He's  tried 
and  judged  me  as  completely  as  could  have  been 
done  by  judge  and  jury.  That's  all  of  the  mystery 


FREDERIC,   THE   GENEROUS!     117 

— he  accuses  me  by  implication.  And  a  tiptop 
case  he  makes  out,  too." 

Her  glance  rose  to  my  face,  her  lips  twitched. 

"  How  straight  you  stand,"  she  remarked;  "  and 
you're  actually  pale,  and  your  hair  is  all  mussed. 
You're  angry,  and  no  mistake."  And  she  laughed 
the  merriest  kind  of  laugh.  "To  think  that  a 
moment  ago  you  said  I  must  not  let  little  things 
worry  me ! " 

I  attempted  to  smile.  I  think  I  only  succeeded 
in  a  sort  of  grin. 

"  The  thought  of  his  unalloyed  and  perfect  faith 
overcame  me,"  I  vouchsafed. 

Catching  a  stray  lock,  she  tucked  it  in,  and 
rose  to  her  feet. 

"Don't  you  think,  Jack" — at  that,  my  heart 
went  thump — "that  I  saw  his  purpose?  He  de- 
ceived me  not  in  the  least.  We  must  be  riding  on. 
It's  a  good  four  miles  yet  to  Painted  Canon.  But 
first  tell  me  why  Mr.  Douglass  tried  to  make  me 
believe  that  you  are  guilty  of  stealing  the  gold." 

"  Because  he  aspires  to  what  I  possess  and — 
hope  for." 

The  last  words  dropped  from  my  lips  hardly 
audible.  For,  at  that  instant,  a  stone  had  slipped 
rattling  down  the  hillside  rocks,  and  I  had  looked 
past  her  toward  the  sound. 

Presently,  she  said: 


ii8      THE    PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

"Why,  you're  gripping  your  hat  till  your  fin- 
gers are  white — and  staring  as  if  it  were  your  last 
look  on  earth !  " 

"  It  may  be  my  last,"  I  answered. 

The  sight  was  compelling  in  the  extreme. 


CHAPTER  IX 

AN  ANCIENT   AND    HONOURABLE    PROFESSION 

THE  object  of  my  regard  was  the  black  muzzle  of 
a  revolver. 

"  Hands  up !  "  the  owner  commanded. 

I  obeyed. 

"And  keep  'em  up,"  he  growled. 

The  man  stood  a  few  yards  off,  a  tall,  wide- 
shouldered,  long-legged  specimen  of  the  outlaw 
tribe,  without  a  coat,  and  his  vest  hanging  open, 
a  blue  handkerchief  concealing  his  features  below 
his  eyes,  his  slouch  hat  tilted  over  his  forehead 
with  a  most  business-like  air.  Two  other  men 
stepped  out  of  the  bushes  and  levelled  their  guns 
on  me  with  a  careless  ease  that  betokened  fre- 
quent practice. 

"  Go  through  him,"  the  leader  ordered. 

They  all  closed  up,  and  one  of  them  searched 
my  pockets,  removing  my  watch  and  a  few  coins. 

"That  will  hardly  pay  the  piper,"  I  said;  "you 
deserve  more  for  your  pains." 

"  When  we  want  your  opinion,  we'll  ask  it,"  the 
head  of  the  trio  answered. 

"9 


120      THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

I  soon  discovered  that  I  was  dealing  with  high- 
waymen of  keen  commercial  instinct,  and  the  affair 
promised  to  take  a  turn  that  would  be  far  from 
pleasant.  The  man  going  through  my  clothes 
pulled  out  the  letter  which  Charlie  Woodworth 
had  found  on  Forge  House  steps  the  previous 
morning,  and  which  I  had  forgotten  to  open.  The 
fellow  slowly  deciphered  my  name  on  the  enve- 
lope, then  stuffed  it  back  in  my  pocket. 

"  Here's  money  what  is  money,  men ! "  he  ex- 
claimed. "  He's  the  boss  of  Forge." 

"Twenty  thousand  if  a  cent — tie  'em  up,"  the 
leader  responded. 

"  You  don't  mean  to  detain  this  lady,"  I  cried. 

"  Cert,"  was  the  laconic  reply. 

"Suppose  I " 

74  Suppose  nothin',  and  save  your  breath." 

;'You  scoundrels — — "  I  began;  but  ceased  as 
the  man's  revolver  swung  up  to  my  eyes  till  I 
could  line  the  sights  on  its  barrel. 

"There's  not  ten  thousand  dollars'  worth  of 
dirt  in  Forge  at  present,"  I  said;  "and  I'll  bring 
you  that  much  myself  in  the  money  market.  Let 
the  lady  go." 

The  leader  laughed  under  his  handkerchief. 

"And  have  a  posse  on  our  trail  in  an  hour? 
We're  not  tenderfeet." 

"  They'll  get  you  sooner  or  later,  anyway." 


AN   ANCIENT   PROFESSION       121 

"  Tie  'em  up !  "  he  ordered  again. 

One  of  the  men  came  to  me,  a  buckskin  thong 
in  his  hand.  I  put  out  my  wrists ;  but,  as  he  stood 
to  tie  me,  I  caught  his  elbows,  and  jerked  his  body 
in  front  of  mine. 

"Ride,  Ethys — take  your  horse  and  ride!"  I 
cried. 

Quick  as  my  words,  she  flung  her  bridle  rein 
off  the  branch,  and  swung  the  animal  about;  but 
the  suddenness  of  the  move  startled  it;  it  flung 
up  its  head,  retreated,  drawing  her  after  it,  and 
bumped  against  its  mate,  which  began  to  kick. 
The  third  outlaw  caught  the  reins  away  from  her, 
and  covered  her  with  his  revolver.  I  let  go  my 
man;  the  game  was  up. 

'You'll  have  to  go,  miss,"  her  guard  said. 
"  Obey  orders,  and  you  won't  come  to  harm." 

So  presently  my  wrists  were  bound,  though, 
after  a  brief  consultation,  the  bandits  decided  to 
leave  hers  free.  Then  the  leader  walked  to  me, 
and  struck  me  on  the  mouth. 

"  Next  time  you  won't  try  tricks  with  me." 

I  wiped  my  bruised  lips  as  best  I  could.  A 
cold  rage  was  roused  in  me  by  his  cowardly  blow. 

;<  There'll  be  no  next  time  for  you  if  I  get 
loose,"  I  replied. 

After  seeing  us  mounted,  the  highwaymen 
brought  forth  their  horses  and  climbed  into  the 


122      THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

saddle.  Escape  for  the  present  was  out  of  the 
question — a  second  thong  held  my  hands  to  the 
pommel,  and  a  handkerchief  bound  my  eyes ;  Ethys 
Fenton  remained  untethered,  but,  as  in  my  case, 
she  was  blindfolded;  and  it  was  plain  that  our 
captors  would  be  ugly  customers  if  aroused.  The 
situation  was  bad,  so  I  sought  to  cheer  my  com- 
panion. 

"  We're  in  for  an  adventure,"  I  said.  "  But 
don't  be  alarmed — we'll  come  out  all  right.  Prob- 
ably they  think  to  hold  us  for  ransom;  but  they'll 
be  caught  first  and  landed  in  jail." 

"What  will — what  will  they  do  with  us?" 

Her  voice  quavered,  and  I  knew  she  was  in  a 
bad  fright,  now  that  she  could  not  see. 

"  Come,  be  brave,  Miss  Fenton,"  I  said,  forcing 
a  laugh.  "We're  in  pawn  for  a  few  hours  until 
they  raise  some  money.  Then  they'll  turn  us  loose 
and  run  for  it." 

A  slap  on  the  flank  started  my  horse  forward, 
and  we  passed  round  the  patch  of  brush  and  made 
straight  up  the  ravine.  As  we  rose  higher,  the 
brook  made  a  good  deal  of  rattle  among  the 
stones;  from  time  to  time  a  branch  brushed  my 
body,  or  whipped  my  face;  and  finally  we  left 
both  brook  and  bushes,  ascending  the  side  of  the 
ravine  and  crossing  rougher  ground. 

From  an  occasional  word  passed  from  one  to 


AN   ANCIENT   PROFESSION       123 

another  of  the  men,  I  knew  we  were  moving  in 
single  file  up  a  trail;  first  an  outlaw,  then  Ethys 
Fenton,  another  outlaw,  fourth  myself,  and  last  in 
the  procession  the  leader  who  had  struck  me.  At 
the  end  of  an  hour  a  brisk  breeze  blew  suddenly 
upon  our  faces,  and  we  passed  over  a  summit  and 
plunged  deeper  into  the  mountains.  I  immediately 
lost  my  bearings,  and  thereafter  rode  in  the  trust- 
ful ignorance  which  only  the  blind  can  know  to  its 
uttermost. 

For  the  most  part,  the  trail  was  up  and  down, 
though  we  made  its  changes  by  twists  and  tortuous 
lappings,  with  occasional  stiff  climbs,  or  steep 
pitches.  I  guessed,  though  I  did  not  see,  that  in 
places  the  trail  was  risky,  and  that  we  skimmed 
dangers  I  could  only  imagine.  A  single  misstep 
of  my  horse  would  dash  me  on  rocks  far  below, 
and  more  than  once  I  held  my  breath  and  rode 
ready  for  a  sudden  swift  fall  and  a  dizzy  prayer. 

Once  we  dipped  down  and  across  a  narrow  val- 
ley, striking  through  a  strip  of  pine  forest  in  the 
passage.  The  horses'  feet  made  no  sound  as  they 
trod  the  carpet  of  needles,  the  boughs  murmured 
softly  all  about  us,  and  the  fresh,  damp,  pungent, 
aromatic  smell  of  the  pine  greeted  our  nostrils. 

Presently  the  vague  wisp  of  an  idea  came  lurk- 
ing at  the  back  of  my  mind,  gradually  growing 
more  vivid  and  assuming  tangible  shape.  Some- 


i24      THE    PRINCESS    OF   FORGE 

thing  about  the  leader  of  the  highwaymen,  a  per- 
sistent familiarity  of  his  person,  his  rough  voice, 
long  legs,  set  of  shoulders,  his  trick  of  body — all 
reminded  me  of  some  one  I  knew.  Could  I  have 
torn  off  his  mask  and  had  one  square  look  at 
him,  I  would  have  taken  oath  to  name  the  ruf- 
fian. 

As  our  cavalcade  circled  the  slanting  face  of  a 
hill,  my  horse  held  back,  blocking  his.  The  man 
for  an  instant  was  pressed  against  me  by  the  ani- 
mals, and  he  struck  me  a  heavy  blow  on  the  head, 
sending  my  hat  spinning.  It  sailed  down  a  thou- 
sand feet  for  all  I  knew. 

"  Keep  the  trail,  damn  you  1 "  he  snarled. 

I  sat  dazed. 

"You  untie  my  hands,"  I  said,  "  and  I'll  break 
every  bone  in  your  cowardly  carcass,  gun  or  no 
gun." 

He  poured  out  a  string  of  oaths,  bid  me  close 
my  mouth,  and  smote  my  horse  with  his  bare 
hand. 

"  Get  on  there,  or  I'll  pop  you  over  a  cliff  1 "  he 
threatened. 

The  quick  start  of  my  horse  nearly  unseated  me, 
but  I  saved  myself  by  a  strong  knee  grip,  and, 
swallowing  my  helpless  anger,  rode  on,  bare- 
headed, and  fit  for  murder.  For  now  I  knew  my 
man.  It  was  Long  Pete  Gurley.  That  string  of 


AN   ANCIENT   PROFESSION       125 

picturesque  oaths  revealed  his  identity  as  plainly 
as  if  he  had  dropped  the  mask  from  his  face. 

It  was  midnight,  as  nearly  as  I  could  guess, 
when  we  came  to  a  halt.  The  thong  binding  me 
to  the  saddle  was  removed,  and  I  was  ordered  to 
dismount,  which  I  did. 

One  of  the  outlaws — the  third,  I  discovered — 
pulled  the  handkerchief  from  my  eyes. 

"You're  lost  a-plenty,  I  reckon,"  he  said. 

"  You're  too  cursed  soft,  Mac,"  the  leader 
said. 

"Don't  make  any  diff'rence  with   'em  seeing 


now." 


The  leader  spat. 

"  Shoot  him  if  he  tries  any  funny  business." 

"  Right  you  are,  pardner,"  Mac  assured  him, 
with  a  chuckle;  "and  'tween  the  eyes.  I'll  send 
him  out  so  quick  he  won't  have  time  to  say,  *  For 
the  land's  sake!'" 

"You're  a  pleasant  robber,"  I  remarked. 

"  I'm  gettin'  ready  to  be  an  undertaker  some 
day,"  he  responded,  with  another  chuckle. 

Well,  he  was  jovial,  but  I  did  not  particularly 
like  the  occasion  or  subject.  I  observed  him  as  he 
stood  guard  over  us ;  he  was  short  and  stout,  wad- 
dling when  he  walked,  and  his  head  had  a  waggish 
set  to  it. 

"  What's  the  time  ?  "  I  asked,  at  length. 


126      THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

Drawing  out  a  watch,  he  held  it  up  so  that  the 
moonlight  struck  its  dial. 

"Look  for  yourself,"  he  laughed;  "it's  your 


own." 


The  spot  where  we  halted  was  secluded,  lying 
between  two  low  hills,  around  which  rose  moun- 
tains on  every  side.  A  noisy  stream  rushed  down 
through  the  middle,  and  a  few  trees  stood  about, 
tall  and  silent  and  black,  with  the  moonlight  fall- 
ing through  their  sparse  branches  and  flooding 
the  open  spaces.  Ethys  Fenton  sat  on  the  trunk 
of  a  fallen  tree,  a  strange  figure  in  the  rough,  wild 
scene.  Her  fright  had  given  way  to  fatigue. 

I  sat  down  beside  her. 

"As  a  protector,  I  do  not  merit  distinction;  do 
I?"  I  smiled. 

"  I  made  you  take  the  ride — it's  my  fault." 

"Think  what  a  lot  we'll  have  to  tell  when  we 
get  home.  I  wouldn't  have  missed  it  for  a  good 
deal,"  I  lied  cheerfully. 

"  Oh,  if  we  were  but  home  1 " 

"When  I  get  these  off,  I'll  crack  their  heads 
together,  and  we'll  ride  away."  And  I  held  up 
my  confined  hands. 

The  jovial  Mac  proceeded  to  build  a  fire  against 
the  end  of  the  tree  on  which  we  sat,  while  the 
other  two  bandits  tended  the  horses.  At  inter- 
vals, our  guard  rolled  his  eyes  at  me  over  the  edge 


AN   ANCIENT   PROFESSION       127 

of  his  handkerchief,  and  shook  his  head  warn- 
ingly.  But  the  fire  engaged  his  attention ;  it  burned 
poorly,  yielding  but  a  tiny,  fitful  flame  that  hardly 
touched  the  bottom  of  the  coffeepot.  His  surveil- 
lance lessened;  he  stared  at  the  fire,  hand  on  lips; 
he  stooped  and  watched  it;  finally  he  knelt  with  a 
grunt  and  peered  at  it. 

I  felt  a  soft  hand  on  my  wrist,  a  light  breath 
touching  my  cheek. 

"Hush,  I've  a  penknife!" 

Stealthily  I  moved  my  hands  nearer  her,  and 
instantly  the  little  blade  began  to  saw  the  leather. 

"  Oh,  it  makes  my  fingers  so  tired,"  she  whis- 
pered; "and  it  won't  cut,  it's  so  dull!"  and 
unconsciously  added  a  humorous  touch:  "A 
woman's  knife  is  always  dull!" 

Out  of  the  notch  of  my  eye  I  saw  her  com- 
pressed lips,  her  face  set  with  dread  of  discovery, 
as  she  fell  once  more  to  work.  Slowly  she  made 
headway.  I  looked  at  the  cook,  at  the  men  water- 
ing the  horses  in  the  creek,  and  about  the  camp; 
even  if  she  succeeded,  my  work  would  be  cut  out 
for  me.  Well,  since  she  had  faith  in  me,  I  would 
strike  one  blow  at  least.  The  fact  was  she  had 
considerable  more  faith  in  me  at  that  moment 
than  I  had  in  myself.  My  eyes  came  back  to  our 
guard. 

Merry  Mac  had  literally  come  to  earth.     He 


128      THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

knelt  with  his  chin  almost  touching  earth,  cheeks 
inflated,  forcing  a  steady  draught  among  the  sulky 
embers.  The  flame  flickered  feebly  across  the 
sticks,  and  he  gradually  crawled  about  in  pursuit 
of  it  until  his  side  rubbed  the  log  and  I  saw  nothing 
of  him  but  two  broad  soles  and  two  broader  hips. 
He  puffed  and  puffed,  and  blew  and  blew. 

And  there  within  six  feet  of  me,  sticking  up 
invitingly  on  one  of  those  broad  hips,  was  his  six- 
shooter  in  its  scabbard.  My  palms  itched  for  it, 
my  heart  began  softly  to  thump — it  tempted  me 
as  the  apple  did  Eve.  Meanwhile,  the  diminutive 
blade  sawed  away  at  my  bonds,  and,  at  last,  they 
parted. 

Then  up  came  the  men  and  horses  splashing 
from  the  creek. 

"  Oh,  Jack,  it's  too  late ! "  came  in  tones  of 
despair  from  Ethys  Fenton. 

The  pair  of  highwaymen  glanced  at  us,  but  the 
girl  had  slipped  away  from  my  side  and  pretended 
to  yawn  and  rub  the  sleepiness  out  of  her  eyes.  It 
was  magnificent  acting!  They  saw  nothing  to 
arouse  their  suspicions,  and  the  leader  shouted  to 
Mac  to  hurry  up  the  coffee. 

Mac  blew  steadily,  with  the  peculiar  patience 
of  his  nature;  the  revolver  butt  lumped  up  on  his 
hip  unchanged.  I  took  a  long,  careful,  calculating 
survey  of  the  spot — camp,  creek,  horses,  men, 


AN   ANCIENT   PROFESSION       129 

mountains.  Then  I  worked  the  stiffness  out  of 
my  fingers,  and  began  to  edge  along  the  tree  trunk- 
Without  a  sound,  I  covered  the  first  foot — the  sec- 
ond— the  third. 

"  Get  it,  Jack;  get  it!  "  I  heard  in  my  ear. 

She  was  following  me  like  my  own  shadow. 
Her  quick  wit  had  divined  my  plan. 

I  drew  on.  My  fingers  could  almost  touch  the 
weapon — ay,  they  were  half  stretched  to  it  when, 
behold !  Merry  Mac  raised  himself  and  sat  back, 
grunting,  from  his  exertions. 

His  whole  squat  shape  wore  an  air  of  satisfac- 
tion over  his  achievement;  he  rested  his  hands 
upon  his  knees,  and  I  could  imagine  him  smiling 
to  himself.  The  flames  were  licking  higher  and 
higher,  brighter  and  brighter,  the  sticks  crackled 
and  sparks  flew.  My  triumph  seemed  nipped  at 
its  very  instant  of  flower,  and  a  sickening  sensa- 
tion of  defeat  settled  about  my  heart. 

Slowly,  as  an  artist  puts  his  last  touch  to  a  pic- 
ture, or  a  sculptor  to  his  statue,  Mac  bent  forward, 
and  gave  the  fire  a  long,  final  puff.  Swift  as 
thought,  I  slid  nearer,  stretched  out  my  hand, 
closed  my  fingers  round  the  gun  handle,  and  lifted 
it  out  of  its  scabbard.  And,  as  Merry  Mac  ceased 
to  blow,  I  rose  silently  to  my  feet. 

The  two  outlaws  were  turning  from  the  horses. 
They  advanced  a  little  way  toward  me,  talking. 


i3o      THE   PRINCESS   OF  FORGE 

The  leader  casually  glanced  toward  the  fire,  burst 
out  in  an  oath,  and  clapped  his  hand  to  his 
belt. 

"  Up  with  your  hands !  "  I  said. 

Four  hands  rose  in  the  air. 

"Now,  three  steps  to  the  front,  and  remove 
your  handkerchief,  Pete  Gurley." 

Pulling  it  off,  he  disclosed  a  face  full  of  hate 
and  fury. 

"  You,  too ! "  I  commanded  the  second  man. 

Off  came  his  mask. 

"  Now,  drop  your  guns  on  the——"  I  began. 

I  heard  a  sudden  gasp  from  Ethys  Fenton's 
lips;  then,  like  a  phantom,  a  hand  reached  up  be- 
fore my  eyes,  clutched  my  weapon,  and  wrenched 
it  away.  Too  late  I  remembered  the  cook — I  faced 
about,  to  find  him  grinning  along  the  barrel, 
which  pointed  straight  at  my  forehead.  The  bit- 
terness of  my  disappointment  was  too  strong  for 
any  fear.  I  had  made  two  attempts  and  two 
failures;  it  seemed  like  fate. 

"A  man  can't  afford  to  forget  the  cook;  can 
he,  Mac?"  I  said  sourly. 

"He  can't." 

I  turned  to  speak  to  Ethys,  when  a  report 
sounded  behind  me,  and  I  felt  a  sting  in  my  left 
elbow.  A  bullet  had  struck  my  left  forearm  and 
passed  through.  Whirling  about,  I  beheld  Long 


AN   ANCIENT   PROFESSION       131 

Pete  Gurley,  the  smoke  still  curling  from  his  re- 
volver, glaring  at  me. 

"  You — you "  I  began. 

My  disgust  was  too  utter  for  speech,  and  I 
could  not  finish.  But  another  hurled  the  words 
at  him  for  me. 

"  You  miserable,  cowardly  murderer !  "  cried 
Ethys  Fenton,  with  ringing  voice. 

She  stood  by  my  side,  her  hands  clinched,  her 
face  white,  her  eyes  blazing.  All  her  fear  and 
fatigue  had  fled,  and  she  stood  there,  slender  and 
defiant,  outraged  by  the  man's  dastardly  act. 

Gurley  stalked  across  the  intervening  space, 
and  shook  his  huge  fist  before  my  face. 

'You  thought  you  had  me — thought  you  had 
me !  "  he  foamed. 

'Yes,  Peter,  I  did,"  I  said  contemptuously, 
"  but  I  find  the  devil  looks  after  his  own." 


CHAPTER   X 

THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  WOOD 

EVERY  road  has  an  end — we  came  to  the  end  of 
ours  as  the  white  light  of  dawn  grew  in  the  sky. 
Our  horses  wearily  climbed  a  ridge,  stood  for  a 
moment  at  the  top  to  breathe,  and  then  stumbled 
down  a  trail  that  led  into  a  shadowy  hollow,  in 
which  we  presently  came  to  a  halt  before  a  log- 
house  hardly  distinguishable  in  the  dim  morning 
light.  It  was  set  in  a  level  space  among  a  few 
scattered  trees;  near  by  sang  a  rivulet,  and  except 
for  this  sound  the  spot  was  quiet  with  the  hush 
which  ushers  in  the  pallid  dawn  of  the  mountains, 
not  a  leaf  whispering  among  the  boughs. 

In  the  cabin,  which  showed  signs  of  disuse  and 
long  abandonment,  but  lately  restored  and  made 
habitable  by  persons  whom  I  judged  to  be  our 
escort,  Pete  Gurley  lighted  a  miner's  lamp  and 
pointed  to  two  stools  by  a  table  against  the  wall. 
Ethys  Fenton  staggered  to  one  and  sat  down, 
shivering  and  exhausted. 

"  I'm  so  cold,"  she  muttered. 

Laying  her  arms  upon  the  table,  she  let  her 
132 


THE  HOUSE   IN  THE  WOOD      133 

head  fall  on  them,  and  thus  remained,  utterly 
worn  out  by  twelve  hours  of  a  difficult,  body- 
racking  trail — twelve  hours  of  fear  and  suspense. 
The  desolate,  hopeless  picture  she  made  bit  into 
my  heart  as  nothing  yet  had  done,  and  my 
thoughts  were  very  heavy.  Finally,  I  believed 
she  slept.  Sleep  was  for  me  out  of  question,  what 
with  the  weight  on  my  spirits,  and  the  wound  in 
my  arm,  which  ached  like  a  throbbing  tooth.  The 
injury  was  more  acute  than  serious,  the  bullet 
having  passed  through  the  flesh  without  touching 
a  bone;  and  the  pain  was  augmented  by  my 
wrists  being  bound.  The  outlook  for  action  on 
my  part  was  slim,  for  as  an  additional  precaution 
against  escape  the  highwaymen  now  tied  my  body 
to  the  table  and  the  stool  on  which  I  sat.  I 
brooded,  but  had  no  divining  flash. 

Merry  Mac  took  up  his  post  on  a  stool  by  the 
door.  Gurley  and  the  second  outlaw,  Stork,  came 
to  the  table,  the  former  producing  the  stump  of 
a  pencil  and  rummaging  my  pockets  for  paper. 
He  lighted  on  the  letter  which  I  had  left  so  long 
unread,  laid  it  on  the  table  before  me,  and  bade 
me  write  to  Forge  for  the  safe  to  be  opened  and 
the  gold  handed  over  to  the  messenger  in  pay- 
ment for  our  release. 

"How  can  I  write?"  I  said. 

"You  can  write  as  your  hands  are." 


134      THE    PRINCESS   OF  FORGE 

"  Well,  I  won't,"  I  answered  sullenly. 

For  a  fit  of  obstinacy  had  seized  me.  I  would 
not  scribble  their  message,  I  would  not  be  driven 
like  a  dog,  I  would  not  seek  to  propitiate  the 
ruffians. 

"Write,"  said  the  man  named  Stork. 

I  shut  my  lips  tightly  and  made  no  motion. 

"Write,"  said  he  a  second  time. 

H]e  did  not  raise  his  voice  or  display  any  par- 
ticular emotion,  and  finally  in  a  calm,  matter-of- 
fact  way  he  struck  me  a  crushing  blow.  For  an 
instant  I  was  giddy,  the  little  window  in  the  wall 
by  my  head  whirling  as  if  it  were  a  pinwheel. 

At  last  I  looked  up  at  him.  His  face  was  ex- 
pressionless, a  shaven,  unmoved  face  in  which 
even  his  eyes  were  lifeless. 

"  Write,"  he  repeated  in  the  same  level  tone. 

"  I  will  not  write,"  I  answered. 

At  the  sound  of  the  blow,  the  princess  had 
lifted  her  head,  dully  staring  at  us  all.  Dark 
rings  were  under  her  eyes,  her  cheeks  were  wan. 
Something  of  wonder  grew  on  her  face  as  she  saw 
the  outlaw  standing  over  me  with  lifted  fist. 

"What  is  it?"  she  asked. 

"They  want  me  to  write  to  your  uncle,  and  I 
won't,"  I  answered.  "They  want  an  order  for 
the  gold  in  Forge  House.  I  won't  give  it.  I'll 
see  them  at  the  bottom  of  the  river  first." 


THE  HOUSE    IN   THE   WOOD      135 

"Write,"  said  the  passionless  voice  above  me. 

She  sprang  up  as  if  to  ward  off  the  blow. 

"  Don't  strike !  "  she  cried. 

"  Let  him  write." 

"Oh,  write,  Jack!" 

"  I'll  write  nothing,"  I  said,  setting  my  lips. 

"  Do  anything  they  ask,  anything  they  want ! 
We're  so  helpless,"  she  pleaded. 

I  considered. 

"  If  we  wait  an  hour  a  posse  will  take  them, 
and  swing  them  from  a  tree,"  I  replied,  with  a 
flash  of  hatred  at  my  captors.  "No,  I  will  not 
write." 

With  sudden  resolution,  she  seized  the  paper 
and  pencil. 

"  I'll  write  it — Forge  is  mine  to  keep  or  give," 
she  exclaimed,  her  apathy  gone.  "  I'll  give  it  all 
to  leave  this  dreadful  spot." 

"Forge  yours?"  I  asked,  in  wonderment. 

"  Of  course — mines,  placer,  town,  and  all,"  she 
said  hurriedly.  'The  title's  in  my  name — uncle 
is  only  guardian — I  can  do  as  I  want  with 
it.  They  shall  have  the  gold,  and  we'll  be 
free." 

Thrusting  a  finger  into  the  envelope,  she  ripped 
it  open  and  drew  out  the  letter.  Some  of  the 
words  caught  her  eyes,  and  they  widened  as  she 
read  on,  till  with  a  little  gasp  she  hid  the  letter 


136      THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

in  her  bosom,  smoothed  the  crumpled  envelope, 
and  swiftly  wrote  on  its  back. 

"  Take  it  to  my  uncle,"  she  said.  "  He'll  give 
you  the  gold — and,  oh,  be  quick!" 

Gurley  and  his  companion  slowly  spelled  out 
their  message,  and,  finding  it  to  their  satisfaction, 
turned  to  the  door. 

My  eyes  followed  them,  but  not  my  interest; 
the  latter  was  taken  by  a  new  and  surprising  fact 
— Ethys  Fenton  owner  of  Forge!  Then  I  had 
been  really  working  for  her  these  past  weeks. 
She  was  the  vague  thing  known  as  the  company, 
and  hers  was  this  splendid  domain  of  Forge !  No 
wonder  they  called  her  the  princess.  My  heart 
sank  down  and  down  into  my  boots  as  I  consid- 
ered some  of  my  past  dreams,  hopes,  aspirations 
• — for  I  loved  the  Princess  of  Forge,  I,  the  mere 
steward  of  her  rich  estate.  A  chasm  seemed  on 
the  instant  to  yawn  between  us. 

At  the  door,  the  important  missive  was  being 
given  to  Mac,  together  with  the  instructions  he 
was  to  follow.  The  man,  jocular  as  ever,  re- 
ceived them  readily,  while  Long  Pete  himself 
grew  milder,  even  facetious,  at  the  near  prospect 
of  wealth. 

"  Cash  the  lady's  note  at  the  bank,  Mac,  while 
we  look  after  the  birds,"  he  concluded. 

Little    they   would    get    for   their    trouble,    I 


THE  HOUSE   IN  THE   WOOD      137 

thought,  since  I  alone  knew  the  combination  of 
the  safe,  but  we  would  gain  time  at  least.  Mac 
went  out  and  leisurely  descended  the  trail,  cross- 
ing and  recrossing  the  brook  as  it  cut  the  path  in 
its  meandering  course.  Sometimes  he  vanished 
behind  a  patch  of  underbrush  or  trunk  of  a  tree, 
to  bob  into  view  again  farther  down.  Broad  day- 
light by  this  time  filled  the  hollow  between  the 
two  hills,  and  I  was  able  to  trace  his  figure  to  the 
very  spot  where  the  smaller  ravine  debouched 
into  a  larger  running  at  a  right  angle  north  and 
south,  where  the  man  disappeared. 

I  observed  Ethys  Fenton  looking  at  me.  Her 
lethargy  had  vanished,  her  eyelids  were  no  longer 
heavy,  the  colour  had  returned  somewhat  to  her 
cheeks,  and  I  vow  the  corners  of  her  mouth 
seemed  just  ready  to  dimple  into  a  smile. 

"  You're  feeling  better,"  I  said. 

"Yes." 

"I  am  glad." 

"  It  was  the  letter,"  she  told  me. 

"Why,  what  can  there  be  in  the  letter?"  I 
asked,  puzzled. 

;'You  must  wait  till  I  see  fit  to  tell  you — I 
have  it  safe.  Since  you've  let  it  go  so  long,  you 
can  wait  a  little  longer." 

''Then  it  must  be  worth  something." 

"  Worth  all  the  gold  in  Forge.     It's  told  me  a 


138      THE   PRINCESS  OF  FORGE 

wonderful  thing !  "  And  resting  her  cheek  on  her 
hand  she  grew  thoughtful. 

"How  long  do  you  count  on  holding  us?"  I 
asked  Long  Pete. 

"  Maybe  till  eight,  maybe  nine." 

And  it  was  now  past  six  o'clock!  Two  hours 
for  Merry  Mac  to  go  and  come,  three  at  the  out- 
side— that  made  short  travel  of  the  distance  it 
had  taken  us  all  night  to  ride.  Afoot,  too!  I 
remembered  now  the  aimless  sort  of  wonder  with 
which  I  had  beheld  the  man  go  forth  unmounted, 
and  in  the  direction  opposite  to  the  way  we  had 
come.  Well,  other  roads  led  to  Forge,  I  per- 
ceived— quicker  ones.  I  decided  I  should  try  that 
route  when  we  returned. 

"What  you  grinnin'  about?"  Pete  Gurley 
asked,  suspiciously  eyeing  me. 

"The  thought  of  being  loose  in  a  couple  of 
hours.  Wouldn't  you  smile,  too,  Peter,  at  the 
prospect  of  being  free,  after  a  dozen  hours  of 
this?" — I  held  up  my  bound  hands — "to  say 
nothing  of  the  hole  in  my  arm ! " 

He  burst  into  raucous  laughter,  while  the  out- 
law Stork,  who  had  taken  Mac's  station  at  the 
door,  parted  his  lips  a  trifle  in  a  cold,  mirthless 
smile. 

"  In  a  little  while  your  troubles  will  all  be  over, 
Mister  Manager,"  Pete  said. 


THE  HOUSE    IN   THE   WOOD      139 

"Whereupon  yours  begin,"  I  retorted. 

"Will  you  stay  to  see  'em?"  he  scoffed. 

Since  he  remained  untouched  by  any  suggestion 
as  to  his  personal  safety,  I  wondered  if  he  was 
more  sensitive  in  respect  to  his  pocket. 

"  Peter,  you'll  never  finger  a  grain  of  the  gold," 
I  asseverated. 

"  I'll  finger  it  all." 

"  If  you  think  your  master  a  square  dealer, 
you've  learned  him  very  badly.  There's  an  old 
saying,  '  Borrow  of  Peter  to  pay  Paul.'  Well, 
you're  the  Peter  of  the  proverb,  and  Paul  would 
as  soon  steal  from  you  as  from  any  other 
man." 

"  I'll  let  no  fellow  double-cross  me,"  he 
growled. 

"  He'd  love  to  do  it,  and  will.  It's  Paul's 
pockets,  not  Peter's,  that  he  wants  bulging  when 
he  flits  from  Forge." 

My  words  began  to  wear  on  his  assurance;  he 
pulled  his  long,  drooping  moustache;  a  thunder 
cloud  gathered  on  his  brow;  he  eyed  me  uneasily 
and  wrathfully. 

"  If  a  man  did  that  to  me,"  he  said,  hitching 
at  his  gun  belt,  "  I'd  cut  his  throat  and  throw 
him  to  the  birds." 

"Exactly  what  he'd  deserve,  Pete.  But  with 
this  particular  man?" 


140      THE    PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

"Watch  me.  That's  all,"  said  Pete  signifi- 
cantly. 

Walking  to  the  door  he  took  a  long  look  down 
the  draw;  and  there  more  and  more  frequently 
during  the  next  hour  he  posted  himself,  moody 
and  silent,  and  watchful,  to  await  the  return  of 
his  agent. 

Distrust  at  length  wholly  mastered  him,  or  so 
I  judged,  and  he  stepped  across  the  threshold 
and  paced  restlessly  a  while  before  the  door,  and 
in  the  end  set  off  up  the  hillside,  scrambled  to 
the  top  of  a  rock,  and  dropped  out  of  sight  on 
the  opposite  side. 

With  his  disappearance  a  new  thought  was 
born  in  my  brain.  Could  I  now  rid  the  cabin 
of  the  remaining  outlaw,  the  princess'  penknife 
might  serve  us  a  second  time,  and  more  to  the 
purpose. 

But  of  wholly  different  calibre  was  this  fellow, 
as  I  soon  ascertained,  and  more  fit  to  be  the  leader 
of  the  enterprise,  possessing  a  cool,  calculating 
mind,  void  of  either  passion  or  sentiment.  How 
his  employer,  with  his  broad  knowledge,  acute 
discernment,  and  experience  with  desperate  men 
should  err  so  far  as  to  put  him  in  the  second 
place  was  quite  beyond  me. 

When  I  attempted  to  draw  him  into  conversa- 
tion, he  told  me  plainly  that  I  could  not  throw 


THE  HOUSE    IN  THE   WOOD      141 

dust  in  his  eyes  as  I  had  in  Gurley's,  and  ordered 
me  to  keep  silent.  Thereafter  I  held  my  peace, 
though  I  watched  him  furtively. 

After  a  quarter  of  an  hour  he  rose,  examined 
my  bonds,  lifted  a  tin  water  bucket  from  a  cor- 
ner, and  passed  out  and  around  the  house,  his 
slouch  hat  moving  across  the  window  by  my  head. 
Five  minutes  slipped  by,  and  he  had  not  returned. 

"Ethys,  your  knife,"  I  whispered. 

She  looked  at  me  sorrowfully. 

"  I  dropped  it  back  at  the  camp,"  she  answered, 
"  by  the  log." 

Her  words  gave  the  last  blow  to  my  hopes ;  the 
chance  had  come  and  I  had  lost. 

A  faint  sound  reached  down  from  the  slope. 
It  grew  louder  to  a  rattle  of  a  horse's  hoofs  on 
stones.  A  shot  exploded  on  the  air;  and  before 
the  report  had  ceased  to  echo  between  the  hills, 
there  broke  forth  a  wild  clatter  and  the  sound  of 
a  horse  recklessly  galloping  down  the  trail. 

Ethys  Fenton  started  up  and  gripped  her  palms. 

"Who  comes?"  she  whispered  tensely. 

The  beat  of  the  animal's  feet  rapidly  grew 
louder,  until  its  black  body  flashed  into  sight  be- 
fore the  door,  where,  in  the  very  midst  of  a 
plunge,  its  rider  flung  it  back  upon  its  haunches. 
Down  the  man  sprang,  and  into  the  room — Fred- 
eric Douglass.  His  blue  eyes  sparkled,  his  fair 


i42      THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

hair  was  ruffled  on  his  hatless  head,  his  narrow, 
handsome  face  was  aglow,  and  the  revolver  we 
had  heard  was  still  in  his  hand.  Altogether  his 
appearance  was  very  dramatic  and  very  welcome. 

"  I've  found  you !  "  he  cried. 

"You  have,"  I  said  quietly. 

"Yes,  thank  Heaven!" 

"Get  us  out  of  this  hole  and  we'll  thank  you, 
Douglass." 

"Yes,  yes,  we  must  be  quick,"  he  said,  speak- 
ing rapidly.  "  I  potted  one  fellow  with  a  bucket 
up  by  the  spring.  There  may  be  more,  who  heard 
the  shot.  Come,  we  must  run  for  it.  We  must 
ride,  ride  fast." 

The  princess  was  all  a-tremble,  looking  this 
way  and  that,  the  blood  coming  and  going  in  her 
face. 

"Untie  this  rope.  I  can't  ride  on  a  stool  and 
table,"  I  said. 

He  made  a  step  to  where  I  sat,  and  with  a 
single  slash  of  his  knife  severed  the  rope  about 
my  body  and  cut  the  knot  at  my  wrists. 

"Why,  man,  what's  this — blood?"  he  cried, 
catching  up  my  arm.  "  Did  you  mix  it  with  the 
ruffians?" 

"They  mixed  it  with  me.  Look  out,  don't 
squeeze  it ! " 

He  dropped  my  arm,  saying:     "Come  along, 


THE  HOUSE   IN  THE   WOOD      143 

Maitland,"  seized  the  girl's  hand,  and  darted  to 
the  door.  Out  they  went.  His  knife  had  not 
made  clean  work  of  the  buckskin  thongs,  missing 
a  knot,  and  I  struggled  with  it.  In  an  instant  he 
had  the  princess'  horse  untied  and  led  to  her. 

"Hold  on,  Douglass,  you've  left  me  fast,"  I 
shouted. 

Up  he  swung  her  into  her  saddle,  then  he 
leaped  into  his  own. 

"Comeback!"  I  cried. 

"What?  You  say  you'll  follow?  Be  sure  to 
catch  up — we're  off  I  "  And,  with  a  rush,  off  they 
went  up  the  trail  behind  the  house  to  the  top  of 
the  ridge. 

I  sent  forth  one  more  shout,  but  my  only  an- 
swer was  the  swiftly  dying  sound  of  their  horses' 
feet.  I  fell  upon  my  cords  in  a  paroxysm  of  fury, 
the  sweat  stood  upon  my  forehead  and  wet  my 
neck,  while  the  wound  in  my  arm  opened  and  the 
hot  blood  trickled  down  my  sleeve.  Then  I  gave 
up.  The  cabin  became  ominously  silent  and 
empty  and  dark,  despite  the  morning  sunshine 
that  fell  through  the  door,  and  I  was  oppressed 
by  a  sense  of  foreboding. 

Minute  succeeded  minute.  Then  a  footfall 
sounded  behind  the  house  and  some  one  moved 
toward  the  front.  Suddenly  my  strength  seemed 
to  forsake  me,  and  a  sickening  sensation  lay  at 


144      THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

the  pit  of  my  stomach,  for  I  heard  the  low  creak- 
creak  of  a  tin  bucket  swinging  on  its  handle,  and 
directly  a  black  slouch  hat  crossed  the  window. 
A  second  later  Stork  stepped  in  and  set  down  his 
water.  My  eyes  clung  to  him  in  a  sort  of  fas- 
cination. 

At  length  I  moistened  my  lips  and  spoke. 

"  Dead  men  walk,"  I  said. 

"  Some  do,"  he  responded,  with  a  pause,  "  and 
again  some  don't." 

An  unpleasant  significance  was  enfolded  in  the 
last  half  of  his  reply,  as  a  worm  in  an  apple,  a 
sort  of  sinister  suggestion. 

"  I  rather  hoped  you  were  one  of  those  who 
clon't,"  I  said  candidly. 

"He  fired  in  the  air,"  he  explained. 

"What?" 

"  And  I  lay  on  my  back  till  they  rode  by." 

After  that  I  said  nothing.  Douglass*  whole 
kidnapping  plot  was  plain ;  it  afforded  him  an  op- 
portunity to  carry  out  a  farcical  rescue  of  Ethys 
Fenton  and  thus  step  up  in  her  graces;  it  also 
enabled  him  to  turn  a  penny  of  ransom  money; 
but  it  further  involved  a  plan  of  which  my  per- 
son was  to  be  the  important  factor.  What  was 
to  be  done  with  me?  Would  I  be  released  on 
Mac's  return?  Or  was  Douglass'  farce  now  to 
revert  to  tragedy? 


I  lifted  my  eyes  to  Stork. 

"I  wonder  if  we've  now  done  with  fiction  and 
come  to  hard  facts,"  I  said. 

"We  have."     His  tone  was  business-like. 

"What  special  form  will  the  facts  take?" 

He  dipped  up  a  cup  of  water  and  drank  it  in 
carefully  measured  swallows. 

"Lead,"  said  he  briefly. 

I  smiled  grimly.  I  had  guessed  his  answer  be- 
fore it  was  spoken.  A  bullet  would  be  a  very 
hard  fact  indeed !  It  was  the  sort  of  fact  one  did 
not  survive  acquiring;  and  I  was  conscious  that 
I  now  sat  helpless  in  the  most  deadly  peril  of  my 
life.  Well,  I  had  been  caught  in  the  pit  which 
mine  enemy  had  digged,  and  now  that  he  had  me 
I  would  show  him  how  a  man  could  play  the 
game  and  lose  and  not  whimper.  This  morning 
was  like  to  prove  fatal. 

I  whistled  softly  and  gazed  out  down  the  draw 
and  considered  things.  A  figure  appeared  at  the 
bottom  of  the  trail.  It  laboured  up  the  path,  ap- 
pearing and  disappearing  with  the  twistings  of 
the  creek.  A  second  man  hove  in  sight,  toiling 
hurriedly  after  the  first,  who  carried  a  he»  *v 
weight  in  his  hand.  The  man  behind  was  empty- 
handed  and  unburdened.  He  gained  upon  the 
first,  whom  I  recognised  as  Mac,  Merry  Mac,  the 
messenger,  and  made  after  him  desperately.  To 


i46      THE   PRINCESS   OF  FORGE 

my  astonishment  the  fat,  short-legged  gentleman 
who  followed  the  outlaw  with  such  exertion  was 
none  other  than  my  amiable  and  polite  French- 
man, D'Urville. 

Thought  I,   "Now,  by  all  that's  wonderful, 
what  brings  him  here ! " 


CHAPTER   XI 

PLAY  AND  COUNTERPLAY 

Some  dead  men  walk — some  do  not!  My  imper- 
turbable keeper  was  of  the  favoured  first  class; 
the  questionable  honour  of  making  one  among 
the  second  was  intended  for  me.  The  Scot  had 
woven  his  net  with  diabolical  cunning — capture, 
ransom,  rescue,  and  my  prospective  death.  Win- 
ning Ethys  Fenton  required  a  trenchant  stroke, 
while  my  removal  was  imperative  for  his  safety. 

When  one  is  about  to  be  executed,  the  figure 
of  the  executioner  gathers  importance.  Covertly 
I  studied  my  man. 

"You  were  one  of  the  dynamiters  over  at 
Crown  City,"  I  said,  breaking  the  silence. 

"  I  was,"  said  he. 

Long  Pete  had  certain  pronounced  character- 
istics; Mac,  too,  had  his  peculiarities,  but  this 
fellow  seemed  utterly  colourless — a  hard,  prac- 
tical machine  rather  than  a  pulsating  man.  I 
imagined  him  dynamiting  the  White  Dog  Mine 
without  flurry  or  waste  of  effort  or  mistake;  I 
imagined  him  administering  my  quietus  in  much 
the  same  way — he  would  blow  out  my  brains,  re- 

147 


i48      THE    PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

fresh  himself  with  a  cup  of  water,  linger  a  while 
perhaps  over  his  pipe,  eat  a  hearty  dinner,  and 
go  forth  open  for  new  hire  and  at  night  to  a 
dreamless  repose.  Precision  is  laudable,  but 
under  the  circumstances  such  a  level,  calm,  eco- 
nomical performance  of  one's  business,  without 
slack  or  loose  ends,  is  appalling. 

I  turned  my  gaze  from  him  to  the  open  door. 
Down  in  the  hollow  the  two  men  laboriously  as- 
cended the  trail,  with  the  Frenchman  shortening 
the  interval  until  he  caught  up  with  the  messen- 
ger. 

When  within  fifty  yards  of  the  cabin,  they  sat 
down  together  side  by  side  on  a  flat/  rock,  on 
which  Mac  carefully  deposited  the  plump  buck- 
skin bag  he  carried. 

The  bright  morning  sunshine  flooded  the  hill- 
side, the  sound  of  their  voices  did  not  carry  to 
me,  but  I  plainly  marked  their  moving  lips  and 
smiling  faces.  They  laughed  and  talked,  and 
smiled  and  nodded. 

D'Urville,  hat  on  knee,  polished  his  shiny 
cheeks  with  his  handkerchief  and  patted  the  out- 
law on  the  back,  and  the  pair  made  merry.  My 
guard,  who  sat  with  his  shoulders  propped  against 
the  door,  facing  me,  could  see  nothing  of  the 
pantomime  enacted  in  the  hollow. 

Fifty  yards  distant  reposed  the  bag  of  gold — 


PLAY   AND   COUNTERPLAY       149 

fifty  yards  measured  my  lease  of  life!  Let  the 
ransom  once  cross  the  threshold  and  I  would  lose 
interest  in  it,  and  other  things,  with  wonderful 
suddenness. 

"What  does  Douglass  pay  you  for  this  job?" 
I  asked,  inspired  to  business  by  the  thought. 

"  Five  hundred." 

He  concealed  nothing;  the  secret  would  be  safe 
with  me. 

"What!    Only  five  hundred?" 

"  Five  hundred  is  five  hundred,"  thus  spoke  the 
careful,  long-headed  calculator. 

"Yes;  but  not  a  thousand,"  I  said,  "or  two 
of  them.  He  beat  you  there,  like  the  Jew  he  is! 
Why,  he'd  have  given  two  thousand  before  he'd 
let  slip  the  chance  to  do  me.  Evidently  you  don't 
know  what  I'm  worth  dead  to  him.  He'd  empty 
his  pockets  to  put  me  away.  And  in  addition  to 
your  share  of  the  gold  you  get,  one-third,  you 
could " 

"A  quarter,"  he  corrected. 

"  No ! "  I  cried,  as  if  aghast  at  the  iniquity. 

"Yes." 

1  Well,  of  all  harpies!  When  you've  had  the 
risk  and  done  the  work,  does  he  walk  up  and 
take  a  share  of  that,  too?  See  here,  Stork,  if  I'm 
worth  five  hundred  to  him  I'm  worth  three  times 
that  to  myself.  Is  it  a  bargain  ?  " 


150      THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

"  Fifteen  hundred  is  fifteen  hundred." 

"And  you'll  make  by  me  what  you  lost  by 
him." 

He  fell  into  a  brown  study.  Anxiously  I 
waited  for  him  to  come  to  a  decision ;  but  he  must 
look  at  it  from  all  sides,  and  was  not  to  be  hur- 
ried. 

Yonder  on  the  rock  the  two  men  were  still  at 
it,  no  longer  laughing,  but  deep  in  talk,  in  which 
the  sleek,  rotund  Frenchman  carried  the  greater 
part.  His  right  hand  lay  lightly  on  Mac's  shoul- 
der, playfully,  confidingly,  while  with  his  left  he 
made  an  occasional  gesture. 

Mac  lifted  the  sack  of  gold  upon  his  knee, 
where  he  fingered  its  tightly  tied  neck.  D'Urville 
pointed  at  it — Mac  shook  his  head.  The  French- 
man softly  thumped  it  with  his  knuckles — again 
Mac  refused.  Plainly  the  lump  of  ill-gotten 
wealth  was  under  discussion,  but  whether  Doug- 
lass' fat  little  confederate  asked  a  share,  or 
urged  a  division  of  it  all  between  them,  or  a  re- 
turn to  Forge,  or  some  other  thing,  it  was  beyond 
my  guessing.  D'Urville's  talk  ran  on  steadily  as 
the  brook,  his  fine  black  point  of  a  beard  jerking 
to  his  rapid  speech. 

"Fifteen  hundred  is  fifteen  hundred,"  my 
keeper  computed. 

"  And  three  times  five  hundred,"  I  added. 


PLAY   AND   COUNTERPLAY       151 

Still  the  little  play  down  the  ravine  continued. 
The  Frenchman  grew  more  vivacious,  his  hand 
gripped  the  outlaw's  shoulder  as  if  to  clinch  an 
argument,  but  Mac  was  not  to  be  persuaded,  and 
once  more  shook  his  head.  He  grasped  the  neck 
of  the  sack  and  stood  up. 

D'Urville  drew  him  back  upon  the  rock  and 
slipped  his  arm  yet  more  confidentially  around 
Mac's  neck.  His  left  hand,  which  the  moment 
before  had  been  spread  forth  in  the  air,  fell  to 
his  hip,  paused  on  it  a  little  while,  then  crept 
under  the  tail  of  his  coat.  There  it  remained 
hidden.  D'Urville  talked  on  and  on,  the  black 
point  of  his  chin  wagged  and  wagged. 

»  Fifteen " 

The  word  escaped  Stork's  lips,  but  he  spoke  no 
more,  and  sank  again  into  absorption. 

The  Frenchman's  hand  crept  out  from  under 
his  coat-tail  and  rested  again  on  his  hip.  It  held 
something  bright,  something  that  winked  sharp 
in  the  sunshine  as  does  a  little  mirror.  His  glance 
left  Mac's  face,  darting  hither  and  thither  like  a 
serpent's.  It  shot  up  at  the  house,  it  sped  the 
limits  of  the  hollow,  it  flashed  about  the  hills — 
all  assured  him,  and  he  smiled  anew  upon  the  out- 
law. 

The  object  gleaming  in  his  hand  held  me  dully 
for  a  time,  then  my  blood  seemed  to  turn  to  ice 


152      THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

as  I  gained  comprehension.  The  thing  was  a 
dagger — ah,  God,  my  eyes  swam  till  I  saw  noth- 
ing of  the  men  in  the  blinding  sunshine! 

"  My  life  or  his !  My  life  or  his !  "  my  soul 
cried  out. 

For  it  must  be  one  or  the  other  of  us.  If  I 
shrieked  a  warning,  then  would  Mac  be  saved  and 
I  die;  if  I  sat  mute,  perhaps  the  two  of  us  would 
die,  perhaps  my  lease  of  life  would  be  extended. 
Outlaw  though  the  fellow  was  it  made  me  shud- 
der to  think  of  him  unfairly  murdered — and  a 
word  from  me  would  save  him.  To  this  hour  I 
know  not  whether  I  chose  rightly. 

At  some  word  the  other  spoke,  the  outlaw  gave 
a  start.  D'Urville  drew  yet  a  little  closer,  slipped 
his  arm  yet  a  little  farther  around  the  man's  neck, 
and  smiled  and  talked  and  wagged  his  beard. 
Mac  attempted  to  rise,  sought  to  shake  off  the 
restraining  arm,  and  with  a  laugh  the  Frenchman 
yielded,  and  both  men  stood  upon  their  feet. 

The  dagger  in  D'Urville's  left  hand  slid  down, 
down,  like  a  silver  lizard,  almost  to  his  knee. 
The  sweat  oozed  cold  upon  my  temples. 

With  the  suddenness  of  a  rattler's  stroke  the 
Frenchman's  arm  hooked  about  the  outlaw's  neck, 
his  fat  hand  clapped  over  the  man's  mouth. 
Mac's  head  snapped  back,  face  up — even  from 
where  I  sat  I  could  see  the  instant  surprised  open- 


PLAY  AND   COUNTERPLAY      153 

Ing  of  his  eyes.  The  knife  leaped  forth  into  the 
sunlight,  then  as  swiftly  flashed  into  the  taut 
breast  of  the  outlaw.  Mac's  fingers  jerked  and 
twisted  and  knotted;  the  bag  of  gold  dropped  to 
the  ground;  his  arm  swung  as  if  swayed  by  a 
wind,  then  he  toppled  over  and  lay  quiet  on  the 
rock. 

Picking  up  the  bag  of  gold  the  Frenchman1 
made  off  down  trail,  light-footed  as  a  cat,  and  dis- 
appeared in  the  deeper  ravine.  And  there  on  the 
rock,  with  his  face  turned  up  in  the  bright  morn- 
ing sunshine,  lay  the  body  of  Merry  Mac.  The 
bag  of  gold  had  taken  its  first  toll  of  blood;  how 
much  more  would  flow  before  the  price  was 
paid? 

Striking  on  my  ear  came  the  words : 
"  Fifteen  hundred  is  fifteen  hundred." 
Rising,  he  came  to  me.     Deliberate  as  the  bird 
for  which  he  was  named,  he  searched  my  pockets, 
thumbed  my  linings,   felt  the  waistband  of  my 
trousers,  and  pinched  my  sleeves. 
"  You  haven't  it,"  said  he. 
"Not  on  me,  of  course." 
"Then  five  hundred  is  five  hundred." 
I  glared  at  him.    Our  bartering  was  at  an  end, 
and  for  all  practical  purposes  my  fate  was  sealed; 
his  first  and  invariable  rule  of  business  was,  it  ap- 
peared, cash  in  advance.    He  moved  away  to  the 


154      THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

door,  where  the  motionless  figure  on  the  rock 
caught  his  eye. 

Stopping  in  his  tracks  he  looked  at  it,  while  my 
breath  began  to  come  faster,  and  after  a  long  ex- 
amination he  went  without  a  word  down  the 
trail. 

Desperately  I  strained  at  my  bonds  and  cast 
about  for  some  means  of  escape.  My  last  hope 
was  swiftly  ebbing,  for  the  time  I  had  to  live,  the 
all-too-short  time,  could  be  counted  in  minutes,  in 
the  half  dozen  it  would  take  him  to  reach  the 
spot  and  return.  Or  if  not  then,  at  least  when 
Long  Pete  returned  from  wherever  he  had  gone. 
Where,  indeed,  had  Pete  gone?  In  all  the  past 
hour  of  excitement,  dread,  and  horror  he  had  not 
once  entered  my  mind.  Ah,  as  if  conjured  up  by 
my  very  question  he  had  come  at  last.  Down  the 
slope  behind  the  house  he  came  whistling — whis- 
tling a  gay  and  sprightly  tune. 

A  head  darkened  the  window  not  two  feet 
from  me. 

"  Hello !  "  said  a  voice.  It  was  not  Pete  Gur- 
ley's. 

I  started,  I  could  have  almost  burst  my  thongs 
for  gladness.  For  the  voice  was  like  a  voice  from 
heaven,  and  the  face  was  no  other  than  that  of 
Dave  Corry,  the  sheep  herder  whom  I  had  staked 
two  days  before.  His  face  wore  a  friendly  smile ; 


PLAY  AND   COUNTERPLAY      15$ 

it  was  a  face  of  honesty,  it  was  the  face  of  a  man 
who  could  save. 

"  You  here ! "  he  cried,  looking  in. 

"Hush!" 

"  Why,  you're  tied  up ! "  he  exclaimed,  with- 
out moderating  his  tone. 

I  flung  a  look  down  the  ravine.  Stork  had  fin- 
ished his  inspection  of  Mac's  body,  and  was  now 
coming  back  with  hurried  strides.  Ominous,  too, 
he  was  testing  each  chamber  of  his  revolver. 

"  Quick — cut  this,"  I  said  to  Dave,  holding  up 
my  hands. 

He  fumbled  in  his  pocket,  while  my  pounding 
heart  measured  the  outlaw's  steps.  At  last  the 
knife  was  thrust  into  the  buckskin  strings  and  they 
parted. 

"  Your  gun — give  me  your  gun ! "  I  com- 
manded. 

The  knife  was  drawn  out,  the  revolver  came  in; 
and  I  thanked  God  that  their  business  required 
sheep  herders  to  carry  weapons.  Dave  himself 
dropped  out  of  sight. 

Stork  was  but  ten  paces  away — now  five — now 
he  stood  on  the  threshold. 

Without  a  word  of  warning  he  flung  up  his  gun 
and  pulled  the  trigger,  while  at  the  same  second 
I  cast  myself  sidewise  upon  the  floor,  rope,  stool, 
and  all. 


156      THE    PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

The  report  of  his  shot  rang  through  the  cabin, 
and  the  bullet  squirmed  into  a  log  over  my  head. 
His  hammer  went  clicking  back — and  I  fired!  At 
his  figure,  half  hidden  by  smoke,  I  fired  again. 
His  pistol  clattered  upon  the  floor,  he  pitched  for- 
ward, clawing  at  the  air,  and  fell  full  length.  The 
man  had  made  his  last  bargain  in  the  murder 
market. 

"You  got  him?"  asked  Dave's  voice  through 
a  chink. 

"Yes;  come  in.    It's  all  over." 

Running  round  to  the  door,  he  joined  me  in  the 
cabin  and  cut  me  loose. 

"  That  happened  pretty  quick,"  he  said  breath- 
lessly. 

"  But  none  too  quick.  You  arrived  just  in 
time,  or  I  should  be  lying  dead  in  his  place." 

He  stooped  over  Stork's  body. 

"  Never  saw  him  before." 

"He's  one  of  the  White  Dog  Dynamiters,"  I 
answered. 

"  Well,  you  did  some  shooting,  all  right." 

Ai  good  shot  it  had  been,  considering  my  posi- 
tion and  the  stiffness  of  my  hands.  Both  bullets 
had  gone  true,  straight  into  the  man's  breast. 

"Never  thought  I'd  run  into  anything  like 
this,"  Dave  said,  "  when  I  came  over  to  get  water. 
My  sheep  are  over  a  couple  of  hills  yonder.  And 


PLAY   AND   COUNTERPLAY       157 

I  just  figured  I'd  take  a  peep  in  the  shack  while 
here." 

"We'd  better  start,  for  another  of  the  cut- 
throats is  loose,"  I  warned. 

"What'll  we  do  with  this?"  He  touched 
Stork's  body  with  his  foot. 

"  Leave  it  to  Long  Pete — he  can  bury  it." 

"  Hell !  "  Dave  burst  forth.  "  Is  Pete  one  of 
'em?" 

"  The  leader,  and  he  may  be  back  any  minute. 
Come,  I've  been  here  long  enough." 

I  restored  the  young  fellow  his  weapon,  picked 
up  Stork's  from  where  it  had  fallen,  and  dropped 
it  into  my  pocket.  Outside,  I  found  my  horse 
tied  to  a  tree  with  those  of  the  outlaws,  and  one 
minute  later  I  was  in  the  saddle,  free,  and  very 
much  alive. 

Dave  informed  me  that  Forge  lay  hardly  two 
miles  distant,  so  we  separated,  and  I  started  down 
the  trail. 

Our  twelve-hours'  ride  of  the  previous  night 
had  been  circuitous — a  flight  characteristic  of  the 
foxlike  Scotchman,  who  had  planned  it  to  en- 
hance his  rescue  in  the  eyes  of  the  rescued.  He 
would  have  his  service  appear  of  herculean  pro- 
portions. I  wondered  if  he  would  play  out  the 
farce  by  doubling  far  afield  on  his  ride  back  to 
Forge,  nor  did  I  have  a  doubt  of  it. 


158      THE   PRINCESS   OF  FORGE 

My  horse  picked  his  way  down  the  trail  into 
the  larger  ravine,  and  turned  north.  I  easily 
guessed  that  I  was  in  a  crease  in  the  low  range 
back  of  Forge,  and  when  I  at  last  reached  the  top 
of  the  draw  I  found  that  I  was  correct.  Forge 
lay  spread  out  before  me,  the  whole  panorama — 
town,  river,  Anvil  Rock,  and  canon.  Forge  and 
safety ! 

My  horse  made  good  speed  down,  and  ten  min- 
utes later  I  was  approaching  the  rear  of  Forge 
House. 

The  town  was  wonderfully  quiet.  At  the  mines 
I  saw  that  no  work  was  going  on,  and  nothing 
moved  in  the  whole  canon  except  the  river.  Had 
a  plague  dwelt  there,  the  place  could  not  have 
been  more  deserted,  more  lifeless. 

"Will  somebody  please  explain  this  new 
thing?"  I  said  aloud. 

Had  all  Forge  gone  searching  for  the  princess 
and  me? 

On  I  went.  At  the  bottom  I  circled  a  hillock 
and  came  to  the  outbuildings  behind  the  house, 
where,  stabling  my  horse,  I  saw  that  all  the  other 
stalls  were  empty.  Going  up  the  slope,  I  chanced 
to  glance  up,  and  beheld  the  Frenchman  walking 
as  if  to  meet  me.  Where  had  he  come  from? 
He  had  not  been  in  sight  the  moment  before. 
Well,  he,  at  least,  gave  a  touch  of  life  to  the 


PLAY   AND   COUNTERPLAY       159 

scene.  I  slipped  my  hand  into  the  pocket  which 
held  the  revolver. 

The  man,  raising  his  eyes,  saw  me.  He  rushed 
forward,  extending  both  fat  hands.  Gratitude  at 
my  deliverance  shone  upon  his  round  and  placid 
face. 

"  Ah,  monsieur ! "  he  exclaimed.  "  You  have 
returned  to  us — you  are  not  lost  entirely?  " 

"I'm  not  lost  at  all,  D'Urville,"  I  answered. 

Of  the  pair  of  villains  sheltered  in  the  Forge 
House  precincts  it  would  have  taxed  my  brain  to 
decide  which  was  the  more  consummate.  This 
one  now  fairly  dripped  ecstasy  at  sight  of  me, 
while  his  delight  was  simple  as  a  child's,  and  very 
beautiful. 

"  We  have  had  a  great  anxiety  for  you — a  fear. 
The  chateau  stood  on  end  the  whole  night  be- 
cause you  and  the  beautiful  mademoiselle  lingered. 
We  were  in  anguish,  monsieur,  desolated  with  a 
great  desolation ! " 

He  squeezed  my  hand  between  his;  I  pressed 
his  in  turn — I  was  acquiring  skill  at  the  game. 

"  Grieve  no  more,  my  friend,"  said  I ;  "  but  re- 
joice with  great  rejoicing." 

"And  the  lovely  Mademoiselle  Princess?" 

He  gave  an  inquiring  lift  of  his  brows. 

"Why,  is  she  not  here?"  I  asked,  with  pre- 
tended surprise.  "  She  left  with  Douglass,  and 


i6o      THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

I  lost  them.  I  imagine  they're  on  the  road  com- 
ing. But,  D'Urville,  what's  the  reason  the  placer 
is  idle?  It  looks  like  a  graveyard." 

Dropping  my  hand,  he  spun  about  on  his  heel, 
gazed  off  to  the  east,  then  turned  about  again. 

"  Mon  Dleu,  monsieur,  it  is  a  universal  debacle 
you  have  caused,  a  magnificent  worry.  How  may 
they  toil  when  the  industrious  manager  is  absent, 
perhaps  in  danger?  They  work  not — they  wait 
in  despair." 

"  Well,  well,  that's  exceedingly  gratifying.  To 
be  loved  by  one's  workmen!  I  never  knew  that 
I  was  so  dear  to  them." 

"  Ah,  monsieur,  you  are  dear  to  us  all." 

He  bowed  low  with  his  words,  sweeping  the 
ground  with  his  hand.  The  temptation  was  too 
great  to  resist,  so  I  also  swept  off  my  hat  and 
made  a  bow  that  equalled  his  own.  Thereupon 
we  parted  to  our  respective  destinations,  though  I 
kept  an  eye  over  my  shoulder.  His  compliments 
were  not  dangerous,  but  other  things  in  his  pos- 
session might  be. 

The  house  was  empty  of  its  accustomed  house- 
hold; it  was  probably  riding  abroad  in  alarm  for 
the  princess  and  me.  Sure  enough  the  Scotchman 
had  gone  round  the  bush,  when  he  could  have 
been  home  any  time  these  two  hours  past.  Unseen 
by  the  servants,  I  slipped  up  to  my  apartments. 


PLAY   AND   COUNTERPLAY       161 

A  pretty  face  greeted  me  in  my  mirror.  My  hair 
was  matted,  my  face  grimy  with  dust,  my  lips 
bruised  from  the  blow  I  had  been  struck,  my 
clothes  disordered,  and  all  my  features  pale  from 
weariness  and  loss  of  blood.  I  grinned  until  I 
saw  my  white  teeth,  for  I  was  not  pleasing  to  the 
eye.  Then  I  splashed  a  while  in  my  tub,  dressed 
my  arm,  and  clothed  myself  afresh. 

The  excitement  which  had  sustained  me  like  a 
drug  had  gone;  loss  of  sleep  began  to  tell,  and  I 
yawned  fit  to  split  my  jaws.  So,  bolting  my  door 
and  seeing  to  my  revolver — for  Forge  House  had 
become  a  house  of  danger — I  prepared  for  a  nap. 
Idly  gazing  out  of  a  window  at  the  last  moment, 
I  beheld,  a  mile  down  the  canon,  a  troop  of  riders 
descending  the  shoulder  of  the  mountain. 

I  snatched  my  field  glasses  from  the  wall  and 
focussed  them  on  the  spot.  It  was  the  household 
returning,  the  princess  and  her  rescuer  riding  in 
the  midst — yes,  Douglass  rode  by  her  side.  The 
cavalcade  formed  a  sort  of  triumphal  procession 
for  the  handsome  scoundrel. 

My  part  in  the  little  play  was  to  be  lying  dead, 
back  in  the  cabin  in  the  wood. 

"  Look  out  for  ghosts,  Frederic ! "  I  chuckled 
through  my  closed  teeth. 


CHAPTER   XII 

THE    PROSPERITY  OF  THE   WICKED 

I  WAS  roused  out  of  heavy  sleep  by  some  one 
pounding  on  my  door.  The  room  was  full  of 
twilight,  and  outside  night  was  coming  down  the 
canon — I  had  slept  a  good  nine  hours.  I  sprang 
up,  switched  on  the  lamps,  and  drew  the  bolt.  In 
walked  Charlie  Woodworth. 

"I  knew  it,"  said  he,  with  a  wise  nod  of  his 
black  head. 

"Knew  what?" 

"  That  you  were  here.  The  others  think  you're 
out  in  the  hills  gallivanting  around  after  outlaws; 
Ethys  and  the  Scotchman  couldn't  figure  out  why 
else  you  didn't  catch  up  with  them.  I  happened 
to  go  down  to  the  stable  and  saw  your  nag.  Well, 
you  had  a  glorious  time — wish  I'd  been  along. 
You  had  us  out  of  bed  all  last  night,  where  we  all 
tumbled  in  as  soon  as  we  got  back,  and  have  been 
sleeping  like  the  dead  ever  since.  Stick  your 
head  into  some  water  and  come  along,  they're 
gathering  for  dinner." 

"  I'll  do  my  share  there,"  I  answered,  "  I'm  a 
starved  man." 

162 


PROSPERITY   OF   THE   WICKED     163 

While  I  made  ready  he  lounged  about  the  room, 
chattering  of  the  stir  our  absence  had  caused. 

"Oho,  what's  the  popgun  for?"  he  said,  all 
at  once. 

"  Paper  weight." 

"  Paper  weight !  Quit  your  fooling.  Hello ! 
One  chamber  has  been  fired!  Fresh,  too;  I  can 
smell  it."  He  lifted  it  to  his  nose,  and  sniffed. 
"  I  say,  paper  weight — oh,  hang !  Go  tell  that  to 
birdies.  Look  at  that"— "S-T-O-R-K"  was 
burnt  on  the  wooden  handle.  'Your  name,  of 
course?  You  know  something,"  he  continued 
suspiciously.  "  There's  something  wrong  with  the 
whole  business,  or  why  didn't  you  come  home  with 
them?  How  did  you  reach  here  first?  Mystery 
is  sticking  out  all  over  you,  like  needles  out  of  a 
pincushion,  and  you  needn't  be  so  devilish  theat- 
rical and  close.  I  say,  you  know  something !  " 

"Why,  what  do  you  think  could  have  hap- 
pened?" I  grinned. 

He  opened  his  mouth  to  reply;  but  stopped 
abruptly,  with  his  jaw  hanging. 

"  Douglass !  "  he  flashed  out. 

"What  about  him?" 

"  He  was  in  it,  I'll  bet  a  beer." 
'  To  a  very  considerable  extent,  by  all  appear- 
ances," I  responded.     "  He  discovered  us  where 
they  had  us  held,  pulled  off  the  rescue,  and  bore 


i64      THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

the  princess  triumphantly  home.  I  should  say, 
Charlie,  that  he  was  in  it  like  a  royal  flush  in  a 
big  jackpot." 

"  Yes,  and  he's  cocky  as  a  bantam  over  it,  too. 
But  tell  me  how  he  could  wander  off  into  the 
mountains  and  find  you  so  pat — that's  none  too 
dear.  How  did  he,  now?" 

Charlie  ought  to  have  been  a  detective;  he  had 
a  fine  no§e  for  such  work. 

"Ask  him,"  I  said. 

"  There's  another  thing,"  he  went  on.  "  When 
the  rest  of  us  rode  out  this  morning,  he  wouldn't 
go  along,  but  stuck  here.  Now,  why?  And  then 
there's  his  yarn  about  the  coming  of  one  of  the 
outlaws.  Wasn't  it  lucky  that  Douglass  hap- 
pened to  be  here?  I'll  just  bet " 

Thrusting  his  hands  into  his  pockets,  he  ceased 
speaking,  and  shut  his  lips  tight  in  thought,  while 
every  second  suspicion  grew  heavier  upon  his 
face. 

"Keep  on,  Charlie;  you're  growing  warm," 
said  I. 

"I'll  bet  he  knew — where — to — go  I "  And  his 
voice  sank  to  a  melodramatic  whisper. 

"  Well,  you're^—" 

"You're  right,  Charlie,"  I  said.  "He  not  only 
knew  where  to  go,  but  he  was  at  the  bottom  of 
the  whole  knavish  affair." 


PROSPERITY   OF  THE   WICKED     165 

Thereupon,  I  briefly  related,  for  his  benefit, 
everything  that  had  occurred  since  my  coming  to 
Forge,  and  disclosed  Douglass'  mesh  of  subtle  and 
far-reaching  villainy. 

Charlie  listened  thirstily,  and,  at  the  conclu- 
sion, cried:  "There's  work  cut  out  for  us!" 

"  The  first  of  it  is  never  to  leave  Ethys  Fenton 
unprotected  for  a  single  instant.'* 

"Yes,"  he  nodded. 

"The  man  will  stop  at  nothing,  now." 

"  I'll  hang  to  her  like  a  leech,"  he  said. 

"And  always  be  alert." 

Again  he  nodded,  took  a  mighty  breath,  and 
lighted  a  cigarette. 

"  We'll  beat  'em  at  their  own  game,  you  and  I. 
Our  eyes  are  open,  and  we  know  what  to  expect, 
and  some  time  we'll  catch  them  napping,  and  get 
back  the  gold  and  show  them  up.  I  suppose  we'll 
have  to  lay  low  until  they  make  the  next  move." 

"  Never  flush  birds  till  you're  in  gunshot,"  I 
recommended. 

Presently,  his  brow  clouded. 

"What  am  I  to  do  without  a  gun?"  he  asked. 
"  I've  only  my  fowling  piece,  and  I  can't  lug  that 
around  in  my  bosom." 

"  Keep  the  revolver  that's  in  your  hand — I've 
my  own."  And  I  brought  forth  one  of  my  pair 
that  lay  in  a  dresser  drawer. 


1 66      THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

"Good  enough,  Maitland;  I'll  feel  more  com- 
fortable now  when  around  them." 

He  thrust  it  into  a  pocket  with  all  the  satisfac- 
tion in  the  world. 

"  Come,  let's  get  down  to  dinner,"  I  said. 
"  I've  fasted  twenty  hours,  and  am  ravenous.  By 
the  way,  watch  Douglass'  face  when  he  sees  me. 
It  ought  to  be  worth  while;  for,  according  to  his 
book,  I'm  under  ground  long  ago." 

The  ladies  were  keeping  their  rooms,  being  not 
yet  recovered  from  fatigue  and  nervous  excite- 
ment, and  so  we  men  were  left  to  dine  alone.  When 
Charlie  and  I  came  down,  the  other  three  were  in 
the  library,  where  my  entrance  created  varying 
degrees  of  surprise.  The  Scotchman  lost  breath 
in  the  middle  of  a  word,  and  stared  at  me,  losing 
colour,  as  if  I  had,  in  all  truth,  risen  from  a  sep- 
ulchre. His  whole  countenance  was  a  confes- 
sion. 

I  crossed  to  him,  and  put  out  my  hand,  while 
smiling  upon  him,  and  speaking  the  little  greeting 
I  had  prepared. 

"  Douglass,  I  shall  never  be  able  to  thank  you 
enough  for  what  you've  done  for  me.  Yours  was 
a  brave  deed;  and  I'm  a  thousand  times  debtor. 
It  was  a  deuced  bad  hole  we  were  in — you  saved 
us." 

I  gave  his  fingers  a  last  grateful  squeeze. 


PROSPERITY   OF   THE   WICKED     167 

"You  arrived — safely?"  he  replied,  with  an 
effort. 

"  Safe,  except  for  a  scratch  in  my  arm." 

My  smiling  assurances  worked  wonders  with 
him,  deceived  him  perfectly,  and  I  saw  his  chest 
fall  with  a  sigh  of  relief.  The  blood  returned  to 
his  cheeks,  his  eyelids  drooped,  and  his  old  dare- 
devil insouciance  came  back  upon  him  like  a  fine 
enamel.  He  thought  himself  undiscovered. 
Douglass  was  the  bold  Douglass  again. 

"  No,  no,  Maitland.  You  exaggerate  my  serv- 
ice. Any  of  us  would  have  done  as  much." 

"Not  every  one,  old  fellow!"  Charlie  'ex- 
claimed, beaming  upon  him.  "  It's  like  you  to 
try  to  make  your  really  big  deeds  seem  insignifi- 
cant. It  was  simply  immense." 

To  this  the  others  added  their  meed  of  admira- 
tion for  his  single-handed  rescue.  Charlie  and  I, 
in  particular,  did  not  stint  ourselves;  and,  after 
a  few  minutes,  Douglass,  smiling  and  protesting, 
denying  and  admitting,  ay,  and  even  preening 
himself,  found  that  he  was  a  hero. 

"  But  I  say,  Maitland,"  he  remarked,  "  what  a 
scare  you  gave  us  when  you  didn't  show  up.  I 
was  half  minded  to  go  back;  but  with  the  prin- 
cess in  my  charge,  I  did  not  dare  take  the 
risk." 

"  It  would  have  been  most  unwise." 


1 68'      THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

"  I  thought,"  he  probed,  "  that  in  my  hurry  I'd 
perhaps  failed  entirely  to  free  you." 

"  Your  knife  was  a  bit  dull,  I  imagine,"  I  an- 
swered smoothly.  "  It  took  me  a  good  two  min- 
utes to  snap  the  cords — seemed  like  an  hour. 
Then,  when  I  got  away  and  over  the  hill,  you 
were  out  of  sight,  and  I  hadn't  the  least  idea 
which  way  to  go,  and  so  wandered  about  until  a 
sheep  herder  put  me  straight.  So  here  I  am." 

"  But  you're  potted  in  the  arm — by  Jove,  we 
forgot  that ! "  Arlington  said,  scanning  the 
wounded  member.  "  Ethys  told  us  about  it. 
You  certainly  look  a  trifle  overtrained." 

At  that  moment,  dinner  was  announced,  and 
during  the  meal  I  learned  the  succession  of  events 
at  Forge  House  during  the  time  Ethys  Fenton 
and  I  were  in  the  hands  of  the  highwaymen;  and 
the  narrative  which  began  with  the  consomme 
lasted  to  the  camembert. 

It  seemed  that  when  Ethys  and  I  had  failed  to 
put  in  an  appearance  for  dinner,  the  previous 
evening,  no  especial  disquietude  had  been  experi- 
enced by  Mr.  Fenton  or  the  rest  of  the  party,  as 
our  destination  was  known  to  be  somewhat  dis- 
tant. When,  however,  eight  o'clock  struck  and 
we  were  not  yet  come,  they  began  to  question  one 
another;  an  hour  later,  they  were  anxious,  which 
state  of  mind  rose  gradually  to  distinct  alarm. 


PROSPERITY    OF   THE   WICKED     169 

Douglass  and  Woodworth  volunteered  an  in- 
vestigating ride  down  the  river,  promising  to  find 
us;  and,  since  the  moon  was  up,  they  took  the 
road  up  hill  and  down  at  a  smashing  pace.  Only 
at  the  dark,  forbidding  entrance  of  Painted  Canon 
did  they  come  to  a  walk,  through  which  they 
picked  their  way  from  end  to  end,  and  a  mile 
beyond.  They  got  back  to  Forge  House  some 
minutes  after  midnight,  and  without  news. 

Had  the  princess  and  I  been  lifted  up  to  the 
moon  itself,  our  evanescence  could  not  have  been 
more  complete  or  more  unaccountable.  One  ex- 
planation put  forth  seemed  plausible — one  little 
to  my  credit — that  we  had  ventured  into  the  hills 
and  lost  ourselves. 

At  this  stage  of  the  proceedings,  Mrs.  Arling- 
ton had  gone  to*  bed  in  a  panic,  and  on  the  verge 
of  an  attack  of  hysterics. 

The  gentlemen  maintained  night  watch,  forti- 
fying themselves  with  Scotch  and  black  cigars, 
while  propounding  theories  to  account  for  our 
absence  and  discarding  them  one  after  another  as 
untenable.  Theirs  had  been  a  gloomy  council. 
At  dawn,  Mr.  Fenton,  tortured  by  uncertainty 
and  fears  for  his  niece,  himself  took  saddle  and 
set  off  down  the  canon,  with  Woodworth  for  com- 
pany, and  with  the  Arlingtons  following  an  hour 
or  two  later.  Down  the  river  road  the  princess 


170      THE   PRINCESS   OF  FORGE 

and  I  had  gone;  down  the  river  road,  therefore, 
we  must  be,  if  we  existed  at  all.  So,  thither 
went  all  of  them — all  save  one.  Enter  Doug- 
lass! 

The  conclusions  of  the  story  were  necessarily 
from  his  lips.  When  the  others  had  departed,  he 
sat  himself  down  in  the  office,  much  dispirited,  to 
puzzle  out  the  vexing  enigma.  Thus,  an  hour 
slipped  by.  At  the  expiration  of  that  period,  a 
roughly  dressed,  ugly,  ill-mannered,  fierce-looking 
ruffian,  on  whom  he  had  never  laid  eyes  before — 
bravo,  my  Frederic! — appeared  suddenly  in  the 
office  armed,  and  demanding  money.  The  fellow 
stated  that  the  pair  of  us  were  held  captive,  and 
cash  must  be  forthcoming  for  our  release,  or  we 
should  be  murdered. 

Was  it  a  time  to  hesitate?  Or  to  count  pen- 
nies? Or  quibble?  By  Heaven,  he  would  have 
given  Forge  itself  to  the  outlaw  to  insure  the 
safety  of  Miss  Fenton,  that  he  would! — so  de- 
clared Douglass,  with  a  fine  display  of  earnest- 
ness upon  his  narrow  face. 

And  when  the  highwayman  set  off  on  his  re- 
turn with  the  bag  of  gold  which  he  had  given 
him  out  of  the  safe,  he  had  trailed  the  fellow. 
He  had  whipped  into  the  stable,  mounted  Duke, 
dogged  the  bandit's  heels,  cut  in  ahead  of  him  in 
a  ravine,  galloped  up  a  draw,  come  to  the  top  of 


PROSPERITY   OF  THE   WICKED     171 

a  ridge,  discovered  the  house,  charged  it,  and  ef- 
fected our  rescue. 

Then  he  and  the  princess  had  fled  in  haste,  sup- 
posing me  at  their  horses'  tails' — fled  by  another 
way  to  the  river,  where,  after  three  hours,  they 
raced  down  into  the  midst  of  Mr.  Fenton's  search- 
ing party. 

"Turning  the  trick  was  simple,"  he  concluded, 
with  a  certain  airy  loftiness. 

"  Well,  I'm  your  debtor,  both  in  money  and  in 
thanks,"  said  Mr.  Fenton.  "  They  shall  both  be 
paid  with  interest,  Douglass;  and  you  have  my 
eternal  gratitude." 

"There's  no  money  due  me,"  the  Scotchman 
smiled,  twisting  the  points  of  his  moustache,  and 
well  pleased  with  himself.  "You  mustn't  imag- 
ine that  I  carry  ten  or  fifteen  thousand  around  in 
my  pocket  as  loose  change.  As  I  mentioned,  I 
paid  out  of  the  safe,  gave  the  sack  of  gold,  which 
seemed  the  only  thing  to  do.  If  I  were  wrong, 
however,  I •" 

"  Exactly  what  I  should  have  instructed  you  to 
do  had  I  known ;  what  I  would  have  done  myself, 
Douglass." 

Our  talk  drifted  to  the  highwaymen.  All  of  us 
agreed  that,  by  now,  they  would  be  miles  away 
and  deep  in  the  mountains,  where  pursuit  from 
Forge  would  be  useless.  Indeed,  Forge  was  still 


172      THE   PRINCESS   OF  FORGE 

in  ignorance  of  what  had  occurred  under  its  very 
nose,  and  we  concluded  that  we  might  as  well  let 
the  town  continue  in  that  state.  But  on  the  mor- 
row a  warning  should  be  despatched  to  the  sheriff 
at  Cold  Springs,  an  alarm  description,  and  reward 
for  the  apprehension  of  the  outlaws.  They  would 
ride  hard,  and  their  capture  would  probably 
take  place  in  another  county,  if  not  in  another 
State. 

Douglass,  for  his  part,  was  extremely  doubtful 
if  the  men,  with  the  start  that  they  had,  would  be 
taken  at  all.  Well,  two  of  them  had,  as  I  knew, 
an  exceeding  long  start. 

"What  did  the  fellows  look  like,  Maitland?" 
Arlington  asked. 

"One  large,  two  medium,  with  blue  handker- 
chiefs over  their  faces,  and  guns  in  their  hands," 
I  said.  "That's  about  as  much  of  them  as  I 
made  out,  which  is  mighty  little." 

"Just  what  Ethys  said we'll  never  catch 

them  on  that  description." 

"She  said  what?"  I  exclaimed. 

"That  she  was  frightened  to  death,  and  saw 
only  blue  handkerchiefs  and  revolvers." 

I  repressed  a  start.  Ethys  had  seen  them,  at 
close  range,  as  had  I ;  but  while  I  had  reasons  for 
maintaining  reticence,  she  had  none.  After  such  an 
adventure,  she  should  naturally  have  been  eager 


PROSPERITY   OF   THE   WICKED     173 

to  tell  it  to  the  smallest  detail;  and  here  she  was 
keeping  as  close  as  I  about  the  matter. 

This  new  phase  of  the  subject  furnished  me 
material  for  speculation  until  we  left  the  table. 
What  had  inspired  her  noncommittal  answer  to 
Mr.  Arlington?  What  cause  had  she  to  keep  the 
men's  identity  secret? 

We  returned  to  the  library,  where  Douglass, 
now  that  he  thought  all  well  with  himself,  could 
not  forego  what  he  considered  a  chance  to  put 
his  point  through  a  joint  of  my  armour.  He 
leaned  against  the  mantel,  his  fair,  small  mous- 
tache pointing  level  on  either  side  of  his  lip  as 
he  smiled.  Vanity  was  ever  the  Scotchman's 
weak  point;  vanity  of  himself  and  his  powers; 
and  he  knew  not  when  to  leave  well  enough  alone. 

"  How  did  it  come,  Maitland,"  he  opened, 
"that  you  were  caught  napping?" 

"  It  would  have  happened  to  any  one,"  I  re- 
joined, on  my  guard. 

"Well— perhaps." 

He  lifted  a  hand,  and  scanned  its  nails  with  a 
pretended  thoughtfulness  that  was  an  excellent 
imitation  ot  the  real  thing. 

"What  else  could  I  have  done?"  I  asked. 

"  If  you  had  had  an  eye  open,  say,  for " 

"  One  doesn't  expect  to  run  across  highwaymen 
when  out  on  a  pleasure  ride,"  I  returned  pleas- 


174      THE    PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

antly.  "At  least,  I  didn't;  possibly  you  would 
have  not  been  surprised." 

Like  a  flash,  his  eyes  rose  to  mine,  eyes  that 
sought  to  discover  some  hidden  meaning  in  my 
words;  but  I  showed  him  a  face  of  good  humour, 
and  without  guile. 

"  If  you  had  had  an  eye  open,"  he  repeated, 
"it  would  not  have  happened." 

"  I  had  two  of  them  open — very  wide  open, 
for  a  while." 

"Still,  it  seems  to  me,  Maitland,  that  you 
yielded  rather  too  easily.  Now,  if  I  had  been  in 
your  place "  He  concluded  with  an  expres- 
sive shrug. 

"What!  With  revolvers  covering  you,  and 
sending  chills  along  your  spine ! " 

"  Good !  I  imagined  those  were  your  feelings. 
To  be  perfectly  honest  with  us,  weren't  you  a  lit- 
tle bit  afraid?" 

"A  little  bit  afraid!"  I  burst  out,  laughing. 
"  I  tell  you  without  reserve,  gentlemen,  I  was 
badly  scared." 

The  others  joined  in  the  laugh  which  I  sought 
to  bring  against  myself,  for  he  who  is  laughed  at 
is  safest. 

Douglass  gave  me  an  indulgent  slap  on  the 
back — an  affectionate,  condescending  slap,  which, 
twenty-four  hours  before,  would  have  angered 


PROSPERITY   OF  THE   WICKED     175 

me,  but  which  now  only  gave  me  secret  amuse- 
ment, since  I  played  the  deeper  game;  then  he 
spoke  a  final  significant  word: 

"You're  not  the  first  man,  old  chap,  who's 
shown  the  white  feather." 

"  Not  by  a  good  deal ;  and  that's  a  comfort," 
I  responded.  "  Misery  loves  company." 

Later  in  the  evening,  Mr.  Fenton  and  I  were 
discussing  the  hold-up  apart  from  the  others. 
Clearly,  the  part  Douglass  had  played  put  him 
in  rather  an  embarrassing  position. 

"  I  fear  that  we  may  have  been  hasty  in  sus- 
pecting him  of  being  the  thief  here.  There  must 
be,"  he  said,  "  some  one  else  at  the  bottom  of 
the  safe  robbery.  It's  difficult  to  believe  him 
guilty  of  such  a  contemptible  act  when  he's  shown 
himself  a  courageous  man  in  risking  himself  to 
save  you  and  Ethys.  We  must  look  elsewhere  for 
the  thief." 

"So  it  seems,"  I  agreed. 

"And  he  acted  not  only  bravely  but  shrewdly 
in  giving  the  outlaw  the  gold,  and  then  following 
him.  That  was  brainy." 

"It  was;  but—" 

I  paused,  as  if  the  idea  had  just  struck  me. 

"What  is  it?"  he  questioned. 

"There's  a  point  about  the  giving  of  the  gold 
I  wish  he  had  explained." 


176      THE    PRINCESS   OF  FORGE 

"State  it." 

"  It's  one  scarcely  worth  mentioning,"  I  pro- 
tested. "  Still — how  did  he  know  the  combina- 
tion of  the  safe?  " 

Mr.  Fenton  gazed  at  me  with  his  grey  eye- 
brows gradually  growing  thicker;  then  he  turned 
a  full  look  on  the  Scotchman,  to  come  at  last  back 
to  me.  In  his  eyes  was  a  gleam  I  well  knew. 

"To  be  sure,  how  did  he  know  the  combina- 
tion?" he  said  meaningly. 

That  was  a  query  I  had  been  saving  the  entire 
evening.  The  rescuer  had  made  a  vital  slip. 

Simultaneously,  we  wheeled  about  to  look  at 
him  again.  Once  more,  he  was  in  the  heart  of 
his  narrative,  holding  forth  to  Arlington  and 
Charlie,  his  tall,  slender  figure  erect,  his  narrow 
face  aglow,  his  blue  eyes  fervid,  his  tongue  pour- 
ing lies  out  of  a  full  month. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

A  PROCESSION  TO  THE  MOUNT 

FORGE  HOUSE  lay  late  abed,  next  morning. 
Douglass,  alone,  partook  of  an  early  breakfast, 
and  disappeared  on  one  of  his  mysterious  engage- 
ments, while  the  rest  of  us  came  scattering  to  the 
table.  As  I  dressed,  after  having  called  one  of 
the  Japanese  servants  to  wrap  my  arm  in  a  fresh 
bandage,  I  held  the  boy  in  conversation.  The  idle- 
ness of  the  placer  on  the  previous  afternoon  had 
recurred  to  me,  as  had  the  recollection  of  the  gath- 
ered crowd  before  Pelan's  store  on  the  Sunday 
when  the  princess  and  I  started  on  our  eventful 
ride.  These  matters  had,  in  the  press  of  more 
immediate  affairs,  slipped  my  mind,  and  I  thought 
now  to  learn  their  cause. 

"Why  were  the  miners  laying  off  yesterday, 
Nashimi?"  I  asked. 

"  They  make  no  more  work,"  he  answered,  tak- 
ing a  stitch  in  the  linen  strip. 

"You  mean  they've  struck?" 

"Yes,  sir;  they  respectfully  refuse  because  of 
the  murder." 

177 


178      THE   PRINCESS   OF  FORGE 

"  Murder — what  murder?  " 

"  I  have  not  acquired  the  information,  sir,"  he 
replied,  speaking  like  the  English  books  he  and 
Togo  studied  with  assiduity. 

"And  that  was  what  the  row  was  about  Sun- 
day?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

So  Forge,  as  well  as  Forge  House,  had  a  sub- 
ject to  stir  its  excitement.  Doubtless  some  work- 
man stabbed  in  a  brawl,  was  my  reflection ;  but  the 
explanation  was  not  satisfying,  for,  with  a  vague 
uneasiness  that  somehow  had  a  sense  of  personal 
threatening  in  it,  I  recalled  the  scene  before  the 
stores.  Even  a  stabbing  among  the  miners  would 
not  have  aroused  so  great  a  hubbub  as  had  been 
stirred  up,  nor  would  the  miners  be  idle.  The 
unwonted  assembly,  the  heat  of  ebullition  agitating 
it,  the  hoarse  murmurs  and  shouts,  the  faces  up- 
turned to  Forge  House,  and  the  pointing  hands — 
all  betokened  something  deeper,  more  critical. 

"You  don't  know  who  was  murdered?"  I  in- 
quired again. 

"  I  have  not  acquired  the  information,"  Nashimi 
repeated  again,  with  accuracy. 

Finishing  his  task,  he  wrapped  up  his  linen  and 
needles,  carefully  gathered  a  few  fallen  threads, 
and  departed. 

After  breakfast,  Ethys  Fenton  joined  me  in  the 


PROCESSION   TO  THE   MOUNT    179 

embrasure  of  a  window,  where  I  looked  down 
upon  the  river.  Our  unfortunate  adventure  had 
left  not  a  trace  upon  her  face,  and  she  had  back 
all  her  buoyancy  and  bloom. 

"  Sleep  did  it,"  she  explained,  in  answer  to  my 
'compliments.  "  I  did  not  even  have  bad  dreams." 

"  Those  should  haunt  the  contrivers  of  our  un- 
pleasant expedition." 

"  Well,  I'm  pleased  you  came  safely  home,  Mr. 
Maitland.  I  was  fearful  for  a  while  that  you 
were  recaptured,  and  that  I'd  have  to  return  and 
set  you  free  again.  It  looked  monstrously  like  de- 
sertion on  your  part  to  leave  me  after  all  we  had 
been  through  together." 

"Wasn't  it  rather  the  other  way?" 

A  smile  curved  her  lips. 

"  Perhaps  I  was  the  guilty  one,"  she  said.  "  And 
I've  read  somewhere  that  prisoners  ought  always 
to  stick  by  one  another  through  thick  and  thin." 

"  I  propose  that  we  amend  that." 

"In  what  way?" 

11  By  making  it  ex-prisoners,  also." 

'  Then,  in  the  future,  you  mustn't  stay  behind," 
she  agreed,  laughing. 

"  I  promise  to  be  among  the  very  first." 

Placing  her  fingers  upon  the  window  pane,  she 
looked  out  upon  the  river,  drummed  lightly  with 
the  pink  tips  of  those  same  fingers,  and  glanced  at 


•i 8o      THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

me,  then  back  at  the  river,  in  a  way  which,  I  was 
beginning  to  learn,  foreran  a  disguised  attack. 

"  I  began  to  think,  when  you  did  not  appear 
yesterday  morning,"  she  said,  "  that  you  were — 
kept." 

"  How  could  I  be  kept  when  you  saw  that  Fred- 
eric cut  me  loose  ?  Besides,  I'm  here  in  your  pres- 


ence." 


"Yes — but  how  did  you  come  here  first?"  she 
asked  suddenly. 

"Did  I  arrive  first?"  I  responded,  with  a  poor 
effort  to  evade  her  penetrating  question. 

"  You  may  be  able  to  make  the  others  think  that 
you  came  when  we  were  all  asleep.  But  I  have 
eyes." 

"Yes,  I  came  home  before  you,"  I  smiled; 
"though  what  a  pitiless  sceptic  you  are.  I  sup- 
pose you  imagine  I've  some  wonderful  tale  to  tell 
• — how,  single-handed,  I  fought,  caught,  and  slew 
the  whole  band  of  outlaws.  It's  very  disappoint- 
ing; but  I  can't  squeeze  even  mock  heroics  out  of 
the  situation.  Everything  I  attempted  resulted  in 
failure,  of  which  you  were  the  witness." 

She  gave  me  a  full,  open  look. 

"  You  did  nobly,  only  the  cook " 

"  Yes,  the  cook  upset  the  broth  I  had  made." 

Though  I  spoke  easily,  my  mind  suddenly  re- 
called Merry  Mac,  dead  by  the  hand  of  the 


PROCESSION   TO  THE   MOUNT    181 

Frenchman,  lying  face  up  on  the  rock.  The  pic- 
ture was  too  vivid,  too  portentous  of  the  danger 
in  which  I  walked. 

"We  should  have  escaped  if  it  had  not  been 
for  him,"  she  mused. 

"  Well,  you  have  the  satisfaction  of  knowing 
that  you  played  your  part  neatly,"  I  said.  "  You 
were  a  real  heroine." 

"  One  hero  in  the  house  is  enough.  Let  all 
the  credit  of  the  role  remain  with  Mr.  Douglass." 

I  glanced  up  in  astonishment  at  the  quick,  gusty 
vehemence  with  which  she  spoke.  She  drummed 
on  the  glass,  and  stared  out  of  the  window,  and  a 
trace  of  anger  was  apparent  on  her  face,  as  if  the 
association  of  her  acts  with  those  of  the  Scotch- 
man was  displeasing. 

"  It  was  very  brave  of  him,  however,  to  rescue 
us  as  he  did,"  I  remarked. 

Turning  full  about,  she  fixed  her  eyes  upon  me 
searchingly,  and  a  little  scornfully. 

"Do  you  believe  that?"  came  slowly  from  her 
lips. 

Her  gaze  was  confusing;  I  opened  my  lips  to 
speak,  but  shut  them  again,  while  I  felt  the  colour 
coming  hot  in  my  cheeks.  I  could  not  fence  with 
a  direct  question. 

'You  do  not  believe  it,"  she  stated,  with  em- 
phasis. "What  is  more,  Mr.  Maitland,  you're 


1 82      THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

concealing  something  that  happened  after  I  rode 
away."  And  her  scrutiny  remained  unwavering. 

"What  makes  you  think  so?"  I  asked,  my 
curiosity  aroused. 

"  It's  your  manner.  You're  watchful,  repressed, 
and  alert,  as  if  expecting  something  more  to  hap- 
pen." 

"  I  wish  I  knew  what  it  was."  Which  was  the 
truth. 

Her  words  had  had  so  remarkable  a  resem- 
blance to  Charlie's  that  I  wondered  if  she  had 
succeeded  in  drawing  that  young  gentleman's  se- 
cret. Therefore,  when  we  separated,  I  sought 
him  out  to  find  whether  he  had  been  telling  tales 
out  of  school,  and  discovered  him  patrolling  the 
driveway.  A  long  cigar  was  in  his  mouth,  the  sun 
glistened  on  his  jet-black  hair  evenly  parted  in  the 
middle,  and  his  hands  were  jammed  into  his  pock- 
ets, while  he  surveyed  the  town. 

"  Have  you  been  talking  '  Scotchman '  to  the 
princess?"  I  demanded. 

"Have  not,"  he  replied,  with  briefness. 

"  Some  one  has." 

"  I  haven't  said  two  words  to  her." 

"Well,  she's  suspicious;  and  I'd  like  to  know 
what  makes  her  so." 

"  Good  for  her !  "  Charlie  said,  but  without  his 
accustomed  enthusiasm.  "  Our  princess  has  a  head 


PROCESSION   TO  THE   MOUNT    183 

on  her  shoulders.  I  wish  she'd  discover  the  whole 
truth  about  the  scoundrel." 

"She's  making  a  start Hello!"  I  cried. 

"What's  up  down  there?" 

A  procession  was  moving  slowly  out  of  the  town 
toward  Forge  House.  Along  the  road  it  came,  a 
wagon  in  the  lead,  with  men  and  women  and  chil- 
dren trailing  behind  in  an  irregular  line,  on  its  way 
to  the  small  cemetery  which  was  situated  on  the 
mountainside,  a  mile  to  the  west.  A  black  cloth 
was  flung  over  the  wagon,  but  the  shape  of  a 
casket  was  apparent  underneath.  The  men's  heads 
were  bare,  the  women  carried  a  few  wild  flowers. 
One  man  there  was  who  rode  a  horse,  and  he 
moved  in  the  midst  of  the  procession  as  slow  as 
the  people  on  foot,  and,  as  he  drew  nearer,  I  saw 
that  his  face  was  as  long  as  an  undertaker's. 

"  It's  a  funeral,"  said  Charlie. 

"Whose?" 

But  he  seemed  intent  on  the  picture. 

"  Did  you  ever  see  any  one  with  nerve  to  match 
his?"  he  inquired,  at  last,  pointing  at  Douglass. 

I  had  not,  and  I  said  so.  My  mind  groped 
about  for  something,  and  presently  found  it — the 
remembrance  of  the  crowd  before  the  stores;  and 
I  knew  this  and  that  belonged  together. 

"Whose  funeral,  Charlie?"  I  repeated. 

"  Fellow  by  the  name  of  Lowden." 


1 84      THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

"  Good  God!  Joe  Lowden?  "  I  burst  out. 

"Yes,"  said  he. 

"Why,  only  last  Saturday  I  knocked  him 
down! "  I  exclaimed. 

"Yes." 

"Dead— how  did  he  die?" 

"Murdered." 

"  Ah !  "     I  recalled  Nashimi's  word. 

The  procession  reached  the  foot  of  the  knoll, 
and  curved,  with  the  circling  of  the  road,  around 
its  base. 

"  Death  seems  to  be  stalking  loose  in  Forge,"  I 
said.  "  I  suppose,  since  I'm  manager,  I  ought  to 
step  down  there  and  say  a  word.  Anyway,  I  liked 
Joe." 

His  hand  restrained  me. 

"No;  don't  go  down,"  he  replied  gruffly. 

"Why  not,  Charlie?" 

The  answer  came  from  another  quarter,  as 
quick  as  it  was  unexpected.  The  wagon  halted 
with  its  melancholy  freight,  the  crowd  stopped  be- 
hind it  and  stared  up  at  us.  One,  alone,  of  the 
whole  multitude  did  not  lift  his  eyes,  but  sat  his 
black  horse,  while  he  bowed  his  bare  golden  head 
in  the  sunshine. 

On  a  sudden,  a  miner  shook  his  fist  up  at  us, 
shouting:  "Show  your  bloody  hands,  you  mur- 
derer!" 


PROCESSION   TO  THE   MOUNT    185 

"  And  look  on  the  boy's  cold  corpse.  May  God 
strike  you !  "  shrilly  piped  an  old  woman. 

The  cue  had  been  given.  Hoots  and  hisses  and 
cries  broke  forth  from  the  mob;  and,  taking  it 
altogether,  we  were  proffered  an  ugly,  menacing 
demonstration. 

As  it  had  begun,  so  it  died  out,  on  the  instant, 
and,  with  the  straggling  column  following  behind, 
the  wagon  jogged  ahead  once  more,  passed  around 
the  knoll,  and  down  the  river  road  to  the  scant, 
stony,  treeless  graveyard. 

I  turned  to  Woodworth,  and  we  looked  each 
other  squarely  in  the  eye. 

"  That's  for  your  benefit,"  he  remarked. 

"And  they  think  me  the  murderer?" 

"That's  what  they  believe — you  knocked  him 
down,  you  will  remember." 

For  the  space  of  a  minute  I  remained  thinking, 
grappling  with  this  new  complication.  I  had 
knocked  the  young  fellow  down,  had  expelled  him 
from  the  placer,  but  afterwards  we  had  parted  on 
good  terms.  When  had  he  been  killed?  By  whom? 
And  why?  These  questions  shot  one  after  an- 
other through  my  brain. 

"Was  that  what  you  found  at  the  stores,  you 
and  Mr.  Fenton?" 

'Yes;  the  body  had  just  been  brought  in,  and 
it  lay  on  Pelan's  platform." 


1 86      THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

"And  did  Douglass  appear?" 

Charlie  flung  away  his  cigar,  and  drew  forth 
his  pipe,  and  filled  it  before  answering.  His  brow 
contracted,  his  mouth  was  set. 

"He  did,"  said  he;  "but,  like  the  coward  he  is, 
spoke  not  a  word  until  Mr.  Fenton  left.  I  hung 
about  on  the  edge,  however,  and  he  either  did  not 
see  me  or  did  not  think  me  of  enough  importance 
to  consider.  He  rose  up  on  the  platform,  and, 
lifting  up  a  hand,  said:  'The  murderer  shall 
hang,  be  he  low,  or  be  he  high;  miner,  or — man- 
ager.' Like  that  he  said  it,  pausing  on  the  last 
word — 'miner  or — manager.'  Then  he  faced 
about,  and  stood  gazing  up  here,  all  the  crowd 
doing  the  same.  Then  he  gave  them  a  significant 
look,  and  walked  into  Pelan's  bar.  It  was  clever 
acting,  by  Jove !  " 

"An  accusation,"  I  said. 

"As  plain  as  if  he'd  named  you." 

The  profoundness  of  the  man's  plan  I  now,  for 
the  first  time,  recognised.  He  had  laid  a  double 
trap,  and  the  second  pair  of  jaws  was  like  to  prove 
even  more  dangerous  than  the  first ;  the  first  I  had 
escaped,  the  other — that  yet  remained  to  be 
seen. 

I  confess  that  a  thrill  of  something  close  to  fear 
passed  through  me. 

"  Douglass  should  know  the  murderer  if  any 


PROCESSION   TO  THE   MOUNT    187 

one  does,"  I  said,  after  a  time;  "  for  he  was  the 
last  man  who  saw  the  boy  alive." 

"  You  know  that !  "  Charlie  exclaimed. 

"  I  saw  them  about  five  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon, the  two  of  them  and  Pete  Gurley,  in  the 
gulley  yonder." 

"  And  Pete  is  one  of  his  lieutenants ! " 

"  His  chief  one." 

Charlie  paced  to  and  fro,  his  chin  on  his  breast, 
while  I  watched  him  with  a  curious  feeling  of 
having,  all  at  once,  come  to  the  end  of  my 
string. 

"Could  we  crack  the  lock  of  his  door?"  he 
speculated.  "There  should  be  blood  on  his 
clothes,  for  the  body  had  seven  stabs,  and  there 
had  been  a  struggle." 

"Was  the  boy  found  in  the  gully?"  I  cried, 
catching  at  an  idea. 

"  At  the  mouth  of  it,  by  the  river.  The  spot 
was  torn  up,  as  if  he'd  fought  fiercely  for  his  life, 
and  blood  was  everywhere." 

"  If  we  only  had  Long  Pete  in  our  hands." 

Charlie  knocked  the  ashes  out  of  his  pipe. 

"  I  think  I'll  go  down  and  have  a  chat  with 
Frenchy,"  he  said.  "  Look  over  his  tools  a  bit." 
And  down  to  the  shop  he  went. 

Pondering  this  new  turn  of  the  wheel,  I  entered 
the  office.  The  town  was  bent  on  having  a  mur- 


1 88      THE    PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

derer,  and  looked  to  me  to  furnish  the  man;  well, 
I  resolved,  I  would  do  my  utmost  to  give  them 
one,  and  a  handsome  one  at  that.  For,  in  my  own 
mind,  there  was  no  doubt  as  to  the  Scot  being 
guilty  of  the  boy's  death.  I  found  Ethys  Fenton 
in  the  room,  leaning  one  elbow  on  the  small  elec- 
tric furnace,  watching  the  distant  procession. 

"  More  trouble  seems  to  be  on  your  hands,  Mr. 
Maitland,"  she  greeted;  "more  than  your  share. 
Helen  told  me  of  this  absurd  charge  last  night." 

"Absurd  things  are  sometimes  fatal,"  I  stated. 

"  But  how  can  they  believe  you  killed  the  young 
fellow?"  she  responded,  incredulous. 

I  smiled. 

"One  man's  imagination  may  serve  for  all,  if 
he's  influential." 

Continuing  to  gaze  out  toward  the  barren  little 
mountain  cemetery,  she  did  not  pursue  the  subject. 
When  she  spoke,  however,  her  words  carried  a 
point : 

"'  Trouble  rides  a  black  horse." 

"That  is  an  old  quotation,"  said  I. 

"  It's  not  too  old  to  use — you  may  apply  it  as 
you  see  fit.  Are  you  afraid  of  the  allusion?" 

"  Of  neither  the  allusion  nor  the  man." 

"Or  of  the  villagers?" 

"As  to  that,  I  must  acknowledge  some  uneasi- 
ness," I  said. 


PROCESSION   TO  THE   MOUNT     189 

"  I  know  you  are  not  afraid,"  she  replied,  her 
face  still  turned  to  the  window. 

Then,  suddenly,  I  knew  that  if  I  was  afraid,  it 
was  not  for  what  might  happen  to  me,  but  what 
might  befall  her  at  the  hand  of  the  Scotchman. 

"Oh,  Ethys,  I  fear  for  you,  for  what  is  most 
precious  in  Forge !  "  I  cried  softly. 

Then  I  drew  back,  remembering.  The  news 
she  had  given  me  in  the  little  log  cabin  where  we 
were  held  prisoners,  the  news  that  she  alone  was 
possessor  of  Forge,  and  I  her  servant — ah,  that 
came  back  to  me  once  more.  Had  I  the  right  to—- 
to   I  stifled  the  words,  and  lifted  my  eyes. 

She  had  swung  about,  and  was  looking  at  me;  her 
face  was  the  colour  of  rose,  her  eyes  were  shin- 
ing. 

Instinctively,  I  put  out  my  hands  until  they  met 
hers,  and  I  heard  my  voice  saying : 

"  A  man  fears  for  what  his  heart  worships ! " 
And  the  words  seemed  a  long  way  off. 

Slowly,  almost  caressingly,  she  drew  her  hands 
from  mine,  while  the  colour  came  and  went  in  her 
cheeks,  as  I  knew  it  burned  in  mine;  and  clasping 
her  hands  against  her  bosom,  she  gazed  into  my 
eyes.  And  I — I  remained  tongue-tied,  my  wits 
fled,  my  heart  beating  wildly,  and  with  a  sense 
that  something  strange,  something  incredible  and 
wonderful,  had  passed  between  us. 


190      THE   PRINCESS   OF  FORGE 

Presently,  I  heard  her  saying : 

"  I  shall  help  you  when  this  trouble  comes ;  oh, 
I  shall  help  you  more  than  you  can  guess.  If  he 

dares "  Her  eyes  turned  again  to  the  window, 

she  raised  her  hand,  and  pointed.  "  They  are 
burying  the  poor  boy.  See,  they  stand  about  his 
grave." 

In  a  few  minutes,  the  burial  was  finished.  The 
people,  dwarfed  by  distance,  began  to  descend  the 
mountainside  in  twos  and  threes,  while  already 
part  way  home  Douglass  galloped  on  his  splendid 
black  horse.  Racing  up  the  driveway,  he  halted 
before  the  portico,  tossed  his  bridle  rein  over  a 
bronze  satyr  head,  planted  in  one  of  the  support- 
ing pillars,  and  dismounted. 

He  moved  across  the  intervening  space,  and  en- 
tered the  open  door;  his  accustomed  nonchalant 
step  was  gone,  while  in  its  place  was  a  devout, 
grave,  sanctimonious,  hushed  tread.  He  silently 
bowed  to  us. 

"You  attended  the  funeral?"  I  said. 

"Yes,  Maitland." 

"  It  must  have  been  dreary  and  sad  without  a 
clergyman  or  service,"  Ethys  remarked.  "  Poor 
dead  boy." 

"  There  was  a  service,  Miss  Fenton." 

"  Why,  is  there  a  miner  who  can  conduct  one?  " 
she  said,  in  surprise. 


PROCESSION   TO   THE    MOUNT     191 

"  I  conducted  it,"  Douglass  answered. 

He  thoughtfully  stared  at  the  floor  after  mod- 
estly giving  this  information.  As  for  me,  aston- 
ishment quite  overcame  any  other  sensation,  and 
words  were  wholly  beyond  my  power. 

"  You !  "  came  at  length  from  Ethys'  lips. 

<(  T    >» 

"  Good  heavens !  "  I  uttered  finally. 

"  And  recited  the  prayers,"  said  he. 

With  another  bow,  and  a  "  Pray  excuse  me," 
he  turned  to  go. 

"Won't  you  remain?"  I  inquired  politely. 

A  sharp  glance,  gone  almost  as  soon  as  given, 
gleamed  from  his  eyes,  then  next  minute  devout 
lids  hid  it. 

"The  grave  has  made  me  thoughtful,  and  I 
shall  be  poor  company  for  some  hours,"  was  his 
quiet  rejoinder.  Whereupon,  bending  in  a  third 
slow  bow,  he  took  his  funereal  self  off,  while  we 
watched  him  go.  Then  I  stared  at  the  inner  door 
until  Ethys  spoke  twice. 

Douglass  conducting  last  rites ! 

Douglass  praying  over  Lowden's  grave! 

Douglass  committing  the  boy's  body  to  earth 
and  the  murdered  soul  to  God ! 

I  gripped  my  palms  at  the  enormity  of  the  thing 
until  my  nails  cut  into  the  flesh,  and  I  knew  him 
now  to  be  capable  of  all  crimes  and  of  all  heights 


192      THE   PRINCESS   OF  FORGE 

and  depths  of  wickedness.  The  man  was  a  mon- 
ster. 

At  the  end  of  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  the  first 
group  of  townspeople  reached  the  western  foot  of 
the  knoll.  They  halted,  their  eyes  on  the  house. 
Little  by  little,  their  number  swelled  until  all  had 
come,  when  the  entire  company  marched  straight 
up  the  slope,  and  pressed  to  the  heavy  stone  arches 
which  held  the  portico's  roof. 

"  Forge  has  risen.  You  had  best  go  inside," 
said  I. 

"No,"  Ethys  replied. 

"  But  they  may " 

"  No ! "  she  said,  a  second  time,  compressing 
her  lips. 

Princesses  are,  at  times,  very  vexatious. 

I  walked  to  the  half -open  door,  swung  it  fully 
open,  and  stepped  out. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

FORGE  RISES 

A  MOB'S  lust  for  blood  is  a  curious  thing.  Even 
those  engaged  in  the  man  hunt  are  conscious  of 
the  strange,  paradoxical  passion  that  controls 
them,  repelling  while  fascinating,  congealing  while 
inflaming,  frightening  at  the  very  instant  of  em- 
boldening. If  by  rare  chance  one's  own  self  be  the 
object  thirsted  after,  it  becomes  a  thing  a  hun- 
dred times  more  hybrid  and  unexplainable — like 
a  hairy,  human-faced  beast. 

Some  such  thought  entered  my  mind  as  I 
stepped  forth  and  looked  down  at  the  crowd. 
Men,  women,  children — all  were  packed,  with- 
out distinction,  up  to  the  line  of  the  portico,  but 
under  its  arches  they  did  not  pass,  as  if  restrained 
by  the  respect,  and  possibly  the  power,  which 
Forge  House  had  gathered  about  its  walls. 

Their  faces,  upturned  and  contorted,  had  every 
colour  of  feeling;  pale,  red,  or  dark,  according  as 
they  were  gripped  by  fear,  fever,  or  hate.  A  long 
minute  of  silence  met  my  appearance,  silence  not 
so  much  as  broken  by  a  foot  shifting  on  the  gravel. 

193 


194      THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

A  whisper  might  have  been  heard  all  up  and  down 
the  canon. 

Finally,  a  man  stepped  from  the  first  rank,  and 
advanced  a  pace  or  two  toward  me.  It  was  the 
storekeeper,  Pelan,  who,  I  saw,  was  the  coolest 
head  there,  and  who,  apparently,  was  to  fill  the 
office  of  spokesman. 

I  calmly  took  stock  of  his  immobile  face, 
square  chin,  and  level  lips,  for  already  I  knew  he 
was  a  man  to  be  reckoned  with. 

"Will  you  come  down  on  the  ground?"  he 
asked. 

"  I  do  very  well  here,"  I  answered. 

"  You  will  be  nearer." 

"This  top  step  is  near  enough." 

"  We  have  much  to  say,  Mr.  Maitland." 

"  I  shall  hear  it  very  well  from  here.  Proceed 
with  your  speech." 

He  paused  briefly. 

"  You  know  why  we  have  come,  sir." 

"  I  can  guess,"  I  responded. 

"  Forge  demands  justice  for  the  murder  of  Joe 
Lowden." 

I,  in  my  turn,  paused. 

"  Of  which  you  accuse  me,"  I  then  said.  "  Very 
well,  let  us  begin  at  the  beginning.  You  act  as  if 
you  had  already  convicted  me.  State  your  charge ; 
that  is  my  right." 


FORGE   RISES  195 

"  Yes,  that  is  your  right,"  said  he. 

"  Oh,  speaking  of  rights,  so  is  a  fair  trial  in  an 
established  court  my  right — but  go  ahead,  Pelan, 
and  we'll  look  to  the  court  later." 

He  proceeded  to  his  statement,  which  was 
made,  be  it  said  to  his  credit,  with  impartiality, 
and  not  without  a  certain  elegance  and  force  of 
language.  Nor  was  it  the  first  time  I  had  won- 
dered at  the  man's  intelligence,  which  was  far 
above  his  trade  of  conducting  the  worst  hell  hole 
on  the  river.  He  was  not  one  to  serve  Douglass, 
or  any  other,  but  himself  alone. 

"  We  come,  Mr.  Maitland,  not  with  blind  eyes 
or  heated  minds,"  he  began,  while  I  looked  at  his 
company,  and  smiled  at  his  words,  "  but  upon  cool 
and  tempered  deliberation.  A  foul  crime  has  been 
committed  within  the  borders  of  Forge,  thereby 
depriving  an  aged  mother  of  a  livelihood;  and, 
what  is  more  precious,  an  only  son.  Friends  can 
provide  the  former;  the  latter,  they  can  only  hope 
to  avenge.  Moreover,  the  sanctity  of  life  has  been 
violated  for  all.  I  will  state  the  facts: 

"  When  you  drove  Joe  Lowden  from  the  mines, 
he  started  home.  Shortly  after  his  departure,  you 
followed  him,  passed  him,  and  he  was  never  again 
seen  alive.  You  arrived  at  Forge,  but  he  did  not. 
At  one  o'clock  Sunday  afternoon,  the  day  before 
yesterday,  his  body,  wounded  in  seven  places,  was 


196      THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

discovered  at  the  mouth  of  the  gully  between  here 
and  the  placer,  and  about  the  place  you  must  have 
passed  him.  We,  the  people  of  Forge,  having  no 
courts  and  tribunals,  have  constituted  ourselves  a 
tribunal,  and  now  seek  the  murderer.  We  are  not 
directed  by  unreasoning  impulse,  but  are  led  by 
the  cold  evidence  in  our  hands.  It  leads  to  the 
step  on  which  you  are  standing."  He  ceased. 

"One  would  have  thought,"  I  said,  "that  it 
would  have  led  rather  to  Pelan's  groggery  than  to 
Forge  House." 

His  countenance  did  not  change. 

"  That  is  beside  the  question." 

"  So  you  think  it  leads  here." 

"  Justice  enters  all  doors  alike.  You  are  accused 
of  the  murder." 

"By  whom?" 

"By  Forge." 

"  Were  you  ever  a  lawyer,  Pelan  ?  "  I  asked. 

"That  is  neither  here  nor  there,"  he  answered 
steadily. 

"  I  think  you  were,  which  makes  it  the  more 
surprising  that  you  answer  as  you  do.  Forge 
means  everybody  and  nobody." 

Everybody,  surely — for  the  concourse  listened 
breathlessly  and  accusingly.  In  fact,  Forge  had 
come  in  person  to  attend  its  accusation;  nor  did  it 
stop  there,  for  every  face  menaced,  as  well  as  de- 


FORGE   RISES  197 

nounced,  me.  No,  not  every  face!  Over  the 
crowd  of  heads,  and  some  fifty  yards  distant,  I 
saw  my  one-armed  partisan,  Kelly,  walking  toward 
us  on  fuddled  feet,  and  blinking  in  the  sunshine, 
as  if  fresh  from  sleep,  and  gaping  his  astonish- 
ment at  this  unusual  assemblage.  Of  all  the  town, 
he  was  ignorant  of  its  import. 

"  Yes,  Forge  means  everybody  and  nobody,"  I 
repeated.  "  This  charge  is  too  grave  a  one  to 
rest  on  vague  words.  Mere  gossip  will  not  do, 
both  my  honour  and  my  life  being  involved. 
Therefore,  name  a  man  who  accuses  me." 

Turning  his  back  on  me,  he  scanned  the  throng, 
and  called :  "  Garrett — Garrett !  "  and  stood  wait- 
ing. 

Garrett !  Another  enemy  was  added  to  my  list 
— the  man  who  had  laughed  at  Joe  Lowden,  the 
man  whom  I  had  struck  down  for  that  same  laugh. 
Now  he  was  about  to  strike  back  with  cruel  venge- 
ance, nor  had  he  had  long  to  wait.  But,  to  all 
appearances,  the  man  did  not  possess  the  courage 
of  his  hate,  for  he  made  no  answer,  and  remained 
hidden  away,  or  was  perhaps  entirely  absent.  His 
name  went  tossing  to  and  fro  among  the  crowd, 
without  response,  and  the  people  at  last  tired. 

"  Since  you  must  have  an  accuser,"  Pelan  said, 
facing  about,  "  I'll  take  that  part.  I  formally  ac- 
cuse you  of  the  murder." 


198      THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

"  Now  we  may  get  somewhere." 

"  I  accuse  you,  first,  of  knocking  Joe  Lowden 
down,  and  discharging  him." 

Here  I  held  up  a  protesting  hand. 

"  That's  no  crime,  by  a  long  ways,"  I  said. 
"  He  was  insubordinate — it  was  my  right  and  my 
discipline  to  enforce  obedience.  Under  similar 
circumstances,  I  would  do  it  again.  It  has  nothing 
to  do  with  the  case." 

"  It  shows  a  motive,  sir,"  was  the  ready  re- 
joinder. "  Further,  I  accuse  you  of  threatening 
his  life." 

"I  deny  that." 

"  It  is  affirmed  by  witnesses." 

"  Bring  them  up,"  said  I  coolly. 

Again  he  paused. 

"  He  is  not  here,"  he  announced. 

"  What,  another !  Or  is  it  Garrett  once  more  ? 
Garrett,  who  hopes  to  square  accounts,  because  I 
struck  him  also.  The  coward!  Let  him  come 
forward,  or  leave  him  out  of  it." 

Pelan  made  a  gesture  of  agreement. 

"  We'll  leave  him  out  for  the  present." 

"  Very  well,  get  on  with  your  accusation." 

"  I  accuse  you,  Mr.  Maitland,  of  killing  Joe 
Lowden  late  Saturday  afternoon — ^" 

"No,"  said  I  firmly. 

"With  malice  aforethought." 

"No." 


FORGE   RISES  199 

"  I  accuse  you  of  concealing  the  body,  to " 

"No." 

"To  avert  suspicion." 

"No." 

"  Of  this  I  accuse  you,  letting  your  theft  of  gold 
pass  as  not  concerning  Forge." 

"  No — not  guilty,"  I  affirmed,  "  of  neither  mur- 
der nor  theft."  And  I  folded  my  arms. 

We  had  arrived  at  the  issue.  If  I  could  cor- 
rectly judge  the  minds  of  Pelan's  cohorts,  they  con- 
sidered that  the  time  had  come  for  action.  They 
had  waited  long;  they  had  waited — so  ran  their 
thought,  no  doubt — through  much  needless  talk; 
and,  presently,  they  would  cease  to  wait,  taking 
the  settlement  of  the  matter  into  their  own  hands. 
As  a  puff  of  air  from  a  brewing  storm  ruffles  the 
placid  surface  of  a  lake,  so  a  breath  of  impatience 
swept  their  quiet. 

Pelan  flung  up  a  commanding  hand,  then  thrust 
it  into  his  breast,  drew  it  out  again,  and  held  be- 
fore my  eyes  what  it  contained. 

A  silver-handled,  red-stained  hunting  knife  lay 
on  his  palm. 

"Is  it  yours?"  he  demanded. 

I  looked  at  it,  the  little  smile  dying  from  my 
lips.  This  was  like  to  be  serious;  very  serious, 
indeed.  For,  stare  as  I  would,  I  could  not  get 
round  the  fact  that  the  knife  was  mine. 

"  It  resembles  it,"  I  said  cautiously. 


200      THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

"  It  was  plunged  in  Joe  Lowden's  body,"  Pelan 
answered. 

I  wet  my  lips ;  they  had  suddenly  gone  dry. 

"  Well,  a  man's  knife  has  been  stolen  before 
this.  I've  not  touched  it  the  month  past."  Then, 
with  determination,  I  flung  back  my  head,  and 
cried:  "Let  us  have  done  with  doubts!  You 
seek  the  murderer;  then  fetch  Pete  Gurley,  and 
place  him  here!  Ask  him  with.whom  he  talked  in 
the  gully  at  five  o'clock  as  I  rode  by!  Ask  him 
how  he  came  by  that  stolen  knife — in  whose  body 
he  buried  it !  Place  him  here  before  me,  that  I 
may  accuse  him,  face  to  face,  of  this  murder.  My 
hands  are  clean — I  am  innocent." 

An  angry  hum  rose  from  the  mob. 

"  Gurley  left  Forge  on  Saturday  noon ! "  a  voice 
shouted. 

Somewhere  in  the  rear,  the  shouter  was  given 
the  lie  in  rich  Irish,  which  raised  a  tumult.  Kelly 
had  come  to  my  rescue.  But  the  throng  turned  on 
him  like  a  wounded  animal;  his  neighbours  hus- 
tled him,  fists  flew  about,  and  a  deep,  swelling 
roar  began  to  echo  beneath  the  roof  of  the  portico. 
I  dropped  my  hand  into  my  pocket,  by  way  of 
precaution.  For  the  crowd  had  begun  to  seethe, 
needing  no  more  than  the  right  word  to  touch  it 
off  in  an  explosion. 

"Kill  him!"  some  one  cried. 


FORGE   RISES  201 

Other  shouts  followed,  shouts  to  seize  me,  to 
string  me  up,  to  sack  Forge  House,  burn  it,  take 
the  mines.  Truly,  my  situation  had  become  des- 
perate in  the  tick  of  a  clock. 

I  dared  not  retreat,  for  neither  doors  nor  bolts 
would  stop  them,  once  they  were  thoroughly 
aroused  to  action.  A  mob's  fury  is  blind  and 
crushes  all  in  its  path.  And  behind  me,  in  the 
house,  were  friends — ay,  and  the  princess! — who 
might  be  struck  down  in  maddened  rage  if  I  fled 
beneath  the  roof  in  an  effort  to  escape.  By  now 
I  was  doing  some  fast  thinking. 

The  minute  of  the  first  action  came.  With  a 
swift  movement,  as  if  all  had  been  propelled  by  a 
single  giant  hand,  or  one  united  impulse,  the  solid 
mass  of  men,  women,  and  children  surged  in  un- 
der the  portico,  hung  an  instant,  and  then,  like  a 
comber  that  has  reached  forward  on  the  beach, 
subsided.  Pelan  had  been  swallowed  up  in  the 
wave;  I  saw  nothing  of  him. 

Again  the  crowd  gathered  itself,  and  again 
surged  toward  me,  while  the  noise  of  angry 
voices  sounded  in  a  hollow,  drumming  bass  un- 
der the  porch  roof.  The  first  rank  touched  the 
step  and  hands  clutched  upward  at  my  body. 

I  waited  no  longer.  With  the  fingers  of  my 
left  hand  still  on  the  knob  of  the  office  door,  I 
whipped  out  my  revolver,  and  pointed  it  straight 


202      THE    PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

down  at  the  faces.  The  mob  stiffened,  and  the 
roar  sucked  away  into  a  sort  of  gasping  hush. 

"Who  will  come  first?"  I  asked. 

Indeed,  I  spoke  calmly,  and  smiled.  The  pros- 
pect of  a  battle  steadied  my  nerves,  my  pulse 
beat  evenly,  and  a  buoying  sense  of  power  at 
holding  a  hundred  at  bay  supported  me.  If  I  was 
to  be  taken,  it  would  not  be  easily.  Other  men 
than  myself  should  die.  And  the  dance  should 
be  fast  while  it  lasted. 

"Who  will  come  first?"  I  asked  again. 

"  There  are  women !  Would  you  shoot 
women?"  one  man,  white  under  his  beard,  mut- 
tered. 

"  No.  Petticoats,  get  back  among  them,"  I 
said. 

So  we  stood,  Forge  and  I,  separated  by  the 
trifling  difference  of  a  pellet  of  lead.  The  men 
before  me  appeared  not  to  breathe,  so  fascinated 
were  they  by  the  little  black  hole  at  the  end  of 
the  gun;  and  each,  I  knew,  was  speculating  with 
a  throbbing  heart  on  whom  I  should  shoot. 

It  was  the  infinitesimal  fraction  of  a  second 
when  the  balance  hung  even,  when  reason  once 
again  dominated  them,  when  they  measured  gain 
and  loss,  when  an  atom  in  either  scale  would  have 
decided  the  issue. 

Suddenly,   with   a  loud  bang,   the  great   hall 


FORGE   RISES  203 

doors  were  flung  open,  and  Mr.  Fenton  stood 
looking  down  at  them. 

At  the  crash,  every  head  jerked  about  toward 
him — a  raindrop,  keyed  up  as  they  were,  would 
have  startled  them. 

"What  is  this?"  he  demanded  imperiously. 

Slowly  and  silently  the  crowd  fell  back  before 
his  eyes.  For  they  beheld  the  master  of  Forge, 
the  man  of  millions,  the  personified  "  Company," 
the  arbiter  of  their  destinies.  One  only  of  their 
number  held  his  ground,  left  alone  by  their  re- 
ceding. 

"We've  come  for  Mr.  Maitland,"  he  said. 

"Who  are  you?" 

"  My  name  is  Pelan." 

"By  what  authority  do  you  come?"  Mr.  Fen- 
ton  said  peremptorily.  "By  what  right?  Who 
are  you  to  take  the  law  into  your  own  hands? 
Who  are  you  to  say  that  he,  I,  or  any  one  is 
guilty  of  murder?" 

"We  come  with  evidence,"  answered  Pelan. 

"This  is  not  a  court." 

"We  shall  make  it  one — we  demand  justice." 

"  Justice — and  with  a  rope.  Where  is  your  fair 
trial?  Your  judge  and  jury?  Justice  gives  these; 
you  deny  them.  You  come  to  lynch  a  man,  know- 
ing nothing  of  his  innocence  or  guilt,  thereby 
making  yourselves  murderers." 


204      THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

"We  have  no  courts." 

"  There  are  courts  in  another  town,"  Mr.  Fen- 
ton  replied,  waving  the  other's  statement  aside. 

"  The  murder  was  committed  here — here  he 
shall  be  tried,"  was  Pelan's  steadfast  reply.  "  We 
are  the  tribunal  of  the  people." 

"  I  know  not  such." 

"We  are  Forge." 

"  You're  only  a  mob." 

Pelan  lifted  his  head. 

"Shall  a  murderer  walk  unpunished?"  he 
asked. 

"No;  neither  by  man  nor  God.  I,  too,  as  well 
as  you,  the  people  of  Forge,  demand  that  the  mur- 
derer of  Joe  Lowden  pay  the  penalty  of  his  crime. 
Do  you  think  my  eyes  are  shut  to  what  passes  in 
your  midst?  Do  you  think  I  am  indifferent  to 
whether  you  live  or  die,  go  securely,  or  are  slain 
by  an  assassin's  knife?  No.  But  neither  shall 
any  man  fall  before  the  fury  of  a  mob,  any  more 
than  by  the  sharp  stroke  of  a  knife.  If  Maitland 
is  accused,  he  shall  answer;  if  there  be  evidence 
against  him •" 

"There  is  evidence." 

"  If  there  is  evidence  against  him,  he  shall  be 
fairly  tried,  and  if  proved  guilty  he  shall  be  so 
adjudged  and  punished.  But  it  shall  be  in  a  court 
of  the  land." 


FORGE   RISES  205 

"  No,"  said  Pelan. 

The  two  men  measured  looks. 

"  In  a  court." 

"  No,"  Pelan  answered  once  more.  "  He  shall 
not  pass  out  of  our  hands." 

Mr.  Fenton  surveyed  the  throng,  from  which 
a  hoarse  murmur  was  growing  anew.  A  slight 
frown  knit  his  brow  as  he  read  determination  in 
the  miners'  faces. 

"  So  be  it,"  said  he.  "  And  since  he  is  entitled 
to  prepare  a  defence,  I  appoint  Wednesday  as  the 
day  of  his  trial.  Further,  I  take  him  into  my 
custody,  and  pledge  my  word  to  keep  him  safely 
until  the  hour.  Go  to  your  homes." 

Pelan  looked  at  him  steadily  for  a  moment,  then 
turned  to  his  silent  followers. 

"Go,"  he  commanded. 

Down  the  knoll  they  went,  with  never  another 
word,  and  Pelan  behind  them.  Forge  departed— 
and  I  was  a  prisoner. 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE  ONE-ARMED  FISHERMAN'S  TALE 

I  PUT  away  my  revolver  and  joined  Mr.  Fenton. 
Behind  him  in  the  hall  were  gathered  the  rest  of 
our  household,  who  had  beheld  the  demonstration 
against  me,  and  on  whose  faces  were  still  traces 
of  anxiety  and  dread. 

"  Well,  I'm  under  obligations  to  you,  Mr.  Fen- 
ton,"  I  said. 

"  They  were  in  an  ugly  mood." 

"Yes,  something  might  have  happened  if  you 
had  not  appeared  just  in  the  nick  of  time." 

"  This  man  Pelan "  he  began. 

"Their  leader,"  I  said. 

"  He's  a  man  of  brains,  and  no  coward,  at  least. 
Will  he  attempt  any  tricks  ?  " 

"No,  I  believe  not." 

"  I  shall  send  down  word  to  Cold  Springs  for 
the  sheriff  and  a  posse  to  come  to  Forge,"  he 
said.  "There  shall  be  no  high-handed  lynching 
here." 

"  I  hope  not,  I  confess." 

"They  seem  set  on  hanging  some  one,"  he  re- 
marked. 

206 


THE   FISHERMAN'S   TALE        207 

"  Well,  I  Intend  it  shall  not  be  me,"  I  said.  "  If 
worst  comes  to  worst,  the  rest  of  you  must  lock 
the  doors,  and  I'll  make  a  run  and  fight  of  it.  I 
hate  to  run,  though." 

"Oh,  it's  all  dreadful!"  Mrs.  Arlington  ex- 
claimed, with  her  pretty  cheeks  pale. 

"  There  are  forty-eight  hours  yet,"  I  assured 
her,  "  and  a  good  deal  can  happen  in  that  time. 
I'm  not  a  dead  man,  by  a  great  deal."  And  I 
laughed. 

Much  had  occurred  in  the  past  forty-eight 
hours;  as  much  more  might  take  place  in  the 
equivalent  space  of  time  yet  to  come;  for  no  one 
can  tell  what  the  whirligig  may  throw  up  when 
events  are  moving  rapidly.  That  thought  cheered 
me  as  I  turned  to  go  to  the  office.  I  beheld  Kelly, 
standing  under  the  portico  before  the  door,  hat 
in  hand,  and  considerably  battered  after  his  cham- 
pionship of  me  in  the  crowd. 

"  A  word  with  ye,  Mister  Maitland,"  he  said. 

"  You're  drunk,"  said  I,  observing  him. 

"  I  am  not — but  I  have  been,  very  drunk." 

"  Well,  one  minute." 

Ethys  Fenton  had  come  near  to  me,  waiting  as 
if  to  speak,  and  I  stepped  to  her. 

"Oh,  my  heart  was  in  my  throat,"  she  said 
softly,  "  when  you  were  out  there,  alone,  facing 
them." 


"That's  what  you  were  paid  for  remaining  in 
the  office  when  you  should  have  gone  in." 

"I  wouldn't  have  left  for  worlds.  The  door 
was  not  tightly  closed — I  saw  everything,  heard 
everything,  through  the  crack.  -You  were  not 
afraid." 

"  I  think  I  was,"  I  answered. 

"  I — I  was  proud  of  you,"  she  said,  with  low- 
ered eyes. 

To  that  I  could  say  nothing,  so  great  was  my 
happiness. 

"Did  Douglass  see  the  show?"  I  finally  ven- 
tured to  ask. 

"  Yes,  when  I  ran  round  into  the  hall  to  uncle, 
he  was  standing  behind  the  others,  looking  on." 

"I  hope  he  was  pleased,"  I  said  savagely,  be- 
tween my  teeth. 

"He  was  smiling." 

"Let  him  smile,"  I  answered. 

There  and  then  I  registered  another  oath  in 
my  heart  that  he  should  pay  the  debts  he  owed 
me.  He  had  had  his  laugh ;  well,  he  should  laugh 
to  another  tune.  How  I  should  accomplish  it  I 
knew  not,  but  accomplish  it  I  would. 

I  drew  the  Irishman  into  the  office  and  out  of 
earshot  of  the  others,  for  the  fellow's  tongue  was 
no  respecter  of  persons  or  sex.  He  was  in  a  great 
state  of  shakiness,  what  with  his  nerves  just  out 


THE   FISHERMAN'S   TALE        209 

of  liquor,  and  the  news  he  had  to  impart.  His 
hands  trembled,  the  veins  on  his  forehead  twitched 
and  knotted,  and  he  tottered  as  he  walked  across 
the  floor.  He  almost  fell  before  he  reached  a 
chair,  putting  out  a  hand  against  the  safe  to  save 
himself. 

"Wurrah,  me  head  is  cracked,"  he  moaned, 
holding  it  in  one  palm. 

"  You  belong  in  bed,  Kelly,"  I  said. 

"Not  till  I've  told  me  story,  Mister  Maitland 
— then  to  bed  I'll  go.  'Tis  the  black  day  I  was 
predictin'  that  has  come  to  Forge.  The  murther 
drives  me  to  ye."  He  rocked  back  and  forth  on 
his  chair. 

"What  do  you  know  of  the  murder,  Kelly?" 
I  questioned. 

Removing  his  quaking  hand  from  before  his 
bloodshot  eyes,  he  stared  vacantly  at  me. 

"  Didn't  I  see  the  blue-eyed  divil  kill  him?" 

"What!" 

"  Satan — Satan  out  of  hell  killed  Joey  Low- 
den." 

I  stood,  doubting  my  ears,  then  sprang  forward, 
and  caught  him  by  the  shoulder. 

"You  mean  Douglass?" 

"  His  name's  not  Douglass,  but  Satan.  He's  a 
blue-eyed  divil,  I  tell  ye,  Mister  Maitland." 

"  You  saw  him — you  saw  him !  "  I  cried  fiercely. 


210      THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

I  shook  him  in  my  excitement.  If  Kelly  had 
witnessed  the  crime,  I  held  the  Scotchman  in  the 
hollow  of  my  hand. 

"Him  I  saw,  bedad,  and  that  Haggard,  Pete 
Gurley,"  he  said.  "  I  was  up  the  river  fishin'  of 
the  afternoon,  sittin'  with  me  back  against  a  tree, 
fishin'  and  nappin'  and  suppin'  betwixt  and  be- 
tween out  of  me  jug,  for  fisherman's  luck,  and 
they  came — oh,  sorrer ! " 

"Goon,  Kelly." 

"They  blarneyed  Joey,  a-talkin'  sweet  to  him, 
and  tryin'  to  get  him  to  help  in  stealin'  you,  Mister 
Maitland.  Thin  they  cursed  him — curse  the  black 
hearts  and  lives  of  'em! — and  Satan  turns  his 
blue  eyes  to  Pete,  and  says,  '  He  will  not,  but  he 
knows  too  much  now,'  and  Pete  he  nods  his  head 
and  curses  Joey.  Thin  Satan  says,  '  He  dies,'  and 
he  pulls  out  a  knife  as  long  as  me  leg.  Oh,  the 
sight  of  it  burns  me  inners  now !  Thin  Douglass 
says  to  Pete  to  take  the  knife  and  kill  him,  but 
Pete  shakes  his  head,  and  says  he  will  hold  him. 
Joey  stands  still  while  they  talks,  Pete  holding  his 
arms  behind  his  back,  and  Joey  is  all  pale.  Thin 
Satan  says,  'He  dies,'  but  Pete  lets  him  go;  and 
Joey  runs,  and  Satan  after  him.  And  Satan  catches 
him,  and  Joey  fought  and  screamed — the  horror 
of  his  screamin'  is  ringin'  in  me  ears.  I  was  froze 
in  me  tracks  where  I  sat,  a-lookin'  round  the  tree 


THE   FISHERMAN'S   TALE        211 

at  the  murther.  And  they  fought  and  rolled, 
with  Satan  jabbin'  Joey  with  his  knife,  until  Joey 
stops  screamin',  and  lies  still.  Thin  Satan  stood 
up,  a-lickin'  his  lips  and  wipin'  the  knife;  and  thin, 
the  next  minute,  he  stoops,  and  pushes  it  into 
Joey,  sayin',  *  Let  'em  find  it  there,  and  hang 
Maitland,'  and  I  near  fainted.  Be  the  holy 
saints,  Mister  Maitland,  two  little  horns  was  on 
Satan's  head  and  a  shiny  tail  on  him !  And  Satan 
and  Pete  hid  Joey  in  the  brush — what's  that! " 

He  started  up,  eyes  distended,  his  body  shaking 
like  a  leaf.  I  pushed  him  back. 

"  I  smell  Satan,"  he  said. 

"  Go  on,"  I  answered. 

Pressing  him  down  into  the  seat,  I  held  him 
there  with  a  steady  grasp,  and  gazed  into  his 
eyes. 

"  I  smell  Satan,"  he  repeated,  sniffing. 

"  Satan  is  nowhere  round.    Tell  me  the  rest." 

His  eyes  wavered  a  while,  but  finally  came  back 
to  mine,  and  he  resumed  his  tale : 

"  Satan  and  Pete  went  out  of  the  gully  and  onto 
the  road.  And  I  crawled  in  the  brush  along  the 
river,  a-lookin'  over  me  shoulder,  thinkin'  Hornie 
was  crawlin'  behind  me,  and  I  drank  from  me  jug 
that  I  carried — oh,  me  soul  was  wrung  dry  by 
me  crawlin'  and  what  I  had  seen! — and  I  crept 
under  the  turbine  house,  and  I  saw  Satan  grinnin* 


212      THE    PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

at  me  out  of  the  water,  so  I  smashed  me  empty 
jug  into  his  face." 

A  light  footstep  sounded  on  the  stone  pavement 
under  the  portico.  Up  started  Kelly  a  second 
time,  his  half-turned  brain  endowing  him  with 
superhuman  strength. 

"  Satan !  "  he  cried. 

"  Keep  quiet,"  said  I.  "  I  will  see  if  any  one 
is  eavesdropping." 

Stealing  to  the  window,  I  flung  it  open,  and 
leaned  out.  Around  a  jutting  angle  of  the  house's 
wall,  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  short,  fat  figure  dis- 
appearing. It  was  but  a  glimpse,  yet  the  shape, 
the  vanishing  coat-tails,  the  soft,  active  speed  of 
the  flying  man,  reminded  me  irresistibly  of  my 
good  friend  D'Urville. 

I  ran  to  the  door,  pulled  it  open,  sprang  down 
the  steps,  and  went  in  the  direction  the  figure  had 
gone.  I  had  lost  time  in  putting  my  head  out  of 
the  window,  but  I  might  yet  overtake  the  listener. 
Dashing  round  the  corner,  I  again  saw,  and  this 
time  a  good  sixty  yards  away,  the  man's  shape  just 
darting  behind  an  angle ;  there  was  the  same  mere 
glimpse  of  a  round  back,  waving  coat-tails,  and 
a  plump  white  hand;  then  my  quarry  was  gone.  I 
ran,  eager  to  get  my  hand  on  him.  Coming  round 
the  corner — lo!  I  stopped  stock-still,  and  stared. 

No  one  was  in  sight;  a  hundred  feet  the  side 


THE   FISHERMAN'S   TALE        213 

wall  of  the  house  extended  without  a  break,  ex- 
cept for  an  opening  in  the  foundation,  which 
formed  the  mouth  of  a  chute  into  the  cellar.  I  ad- 
vanced to  it  and,  stooping  down,  peered  in.  All 
was  as  dark  as  night  and  silent  as  the  grave  down 
there.  Yet  there  only  could  the  agile  Frenchman 
have  gone,  to  vanish  so  instantaneously  and  so 
completely. 

Shrugging  my  shoulders,  I  went  back  to  the 
office.  How  much  had  D'Urville  heard  of  the 
Irishman's  confession?  Had  he  been  secreted  by 
the  half-open  door?  His  flight  looked  suspiciously 
like  it.  I  trusted  to  Kelly's  maudlin,  mixed,  illy 
connected  story  to  carry  no  importance  in  the 
slippery  machinist's  mind.  In  this  I  underrated  my 
enemy's  intelligence. 

"  Kelly,  go  on  with  your  account,"  I  said,  when 
I  re-entered  the  room.  "  Douglass  is  nowhere 
about." 

"Wurrah,  wurrah,"  he  cried  feebly,  "I've  no 
more  to  tell  ye.  Whin  I  woke  up,  I  was  dyin' 
in  my  head  and  belly,  and  I  bent  down  and  took 
a  big  drink  of  water.  Thin  I  saw  'em  all  bunched 
here  by  the  door,  so  I  came  up  the  hill." 

His  excitement  had  died  out  with  the  finishing 
of  his  narrative.  I  lifted  him  to  his  feet,  and 
helped  him  to  the  door.  He  was  a  very  sick 
man. 


2i4      THE    PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

"  Go  home  and  to  bed,"  I  bade  him. 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Maitland." 

"  And  don't  breathe  a  word  of  this  to  any  living 
soul." 

"  I'll  not  talk,"  he  answered. 

"Be  sober  if  you  can  on  the  day  after  to-mor- 
row, Kelly,  and  we'll  hang  Satan  between  us,  you 
and  I." 

A  flicker  came  into  his  eye. 

"  We'll  stretch  Satan  Douglass,"  he  mumbled. 

Out  onto  the  avenue  I  supported  him.  At  first, 
he  could  not  stand,  having  collapsed  in  the  reaction 
which  set  in  on  him.  But  presently  he  recovered 
sufficient  strength  to  go  staggering  down  the  road, 
crying  weakly  to  God  and  to  the  Mother  Mary. 
I  wondered,  as  I  watched  after  him,  at  the  great- 
ness of  his  loyalty  to  his  old  partner  Rogers  and 
his  hate  for  my  Scotch  assistant;  and  in  both  I 
felt  a  kindred  sympathy,  at  least  in  the  latter. 

He  made  his  way  with  difficulty,  and  when  I 
saw  that  he  kept  his  legs  and  did  not  fall,  I  en- 
tered the  house. 

"  Mr.  Fenton  should  have  heard  his  story," 
thought  I. 

Well,  he  would  hear  it,  I  made  up  my  mind,  be- 
fore another  day  passed. 


CHAPTER   XVI 

THE   BARGAININGS   OF  A   VILLAIN 

THE  people  of  Forge  had  Mr.  Fenton's  pledge 
for  my  safe-keeping;  they  made  it  doubly  safe 
by  an  added  precaution  on  their  own  part.  Some 
time  in  the  afternoon,  Charlie  led  me  forth  from 
the  house,  and  pointed  at  the  road,  first  east,  then 
west.  In  each  direction,  a  man  loitered,  but  what 
caught  and  held  the  eye  was  the  rifle  on  which  the 
man  leaned.  A  man  sat  in  the  door  of  the  tur- 
bine house,  also  with  a  rifle.  In  the  rear  of  the 
outbuildings,  some  hundred  yards  north  of  them, 
and  in  a  semicircle,  half  a  dozen  more  lay  on  the 
ground,  or  sat  on  boulders,  as  I  perceived  when 
Charlie  took  my  arm,  and  directed  me  to  a  point 
of  the  knoll  where  a  view  to  the  north  could  be 
had.  Forge  House  was  in  a  ring  of  guards. 

"They  intend  that  I  shall  not  run  for  it,"  I 
remarked. 

"Nor  any  of  us.  I  tried  that  fellow  down 
yonder,  pretending  to  go  to  town,  and  he  ordered 
me  back.  So  I  stopped  and  talked  a  while,  and 
the  chap  loosened  up,  and  said  the  miners  did 

215 


216      THE   PRINCESS   OF  FORGE 

not  mean  to  have  us  sending  messages  down  to 
Cold  Springs." 

"Cut  us  off,  eh?" 

"That's  the  intention,"  Charlie  responded. 
"Who's  that  coming?" 

Approaching  from  the  town  was  the  Mexican 
girl,  a  yellow  handkerchief  showing  brightly 
about  her  neck. 

"We'll  see  if  the  sieve  strains  both  ways,"  I 
said. 

It  proved  to  be  open  from  the  outside,  at  least 
in  the  case  of  Douglass'  inamorata,  for,  after  ex- 
changing a  few  words  with  the  sentinel,  the  man 
gave  a  careless  nod,  she  passed  the  cordon,  and 
began  to  ascend  the  knoll.  With  considerable 
curiosity,  I  watched  her  approach. 

"Take  yourself  off,  Charlie,"  I  invited,  "I 
want  a  word  alone  with  her." 

"She's  deuced  pretty,  and  you're  deuced  self- 
ish," he  replied. 

"  Run  along.    This  is  no  flirtation." 

"I'd  make  it  one  if  I  had  half  a  chance,"  he 
said,  still  lingering. 

I  laughed. 

"With  Douglass'  future  wife?" 

"Wife — oh,  hang!  You  know  better,  Mait- 
land.  It's  a  pity  if  he's  taken  it  into  his  head  to 
play  fast  and  loose  with  her." 


BARGAININGS  OF  A  VILLAIN    217 

"  Your  time's  up,"  I  said. 

"  Is  that  the  princess  gazing  out  of  the  window 
at  us?"  he  remarked. 

I  glanced  up;  the  windows  were  empty. 

"  It's  not  the  princess,"  I  replied  shortly. 

With  a  chuckle,  he  withdrew,  while  I  scowled 
after  him.  I  was  growing  touchy,  I  recognised, 
on  the  subject  of  princesses. 

The  Mexican  girl  moved  leisurely,  but  came 
straight  to  me. 

"Where  may  I  speak  with  the  lady  princess, 
senor?"  she  inquired. 

Her  question  took  me  by  surprise,  being  the 
last  in  the  world  which  I  would  have  expected  to 
come  from  her. 

"  In  the  house,  senorita.  But  one  minute,  if 
you  please.  You  remember  the  evening  that  you 
led  me  to  the  cupboard  in  the  machine  shop. 
Well,  it  was  empty.  Has  the  gallant  Frederic 
spoken  again  of  the  gold?" 

She  seemed  between  two  minds  for  an  answer, 
hesitating,  in  the  end  giving  an  indifferent  shrug. 

"  I  care  not  about  the  gold,  senor.  It  does  not 
interest  me.  He  has  said  nothing — I  have  asked 
nothing." 

I  hid  a  smile. 

"So  your  little  quarrel  is  made  up?" 

Closing  her  lips  tightly,  she  did  not  reply.     I 


2i8      THE   PRINCESS   OF  FORGE 

saw  that  Frederic  had  sealed  them  effectually 
since  my  last  interview  with  her.  Her  mood  then 
had  been  one  of  stormy  passion;  now  it  was  of 
cold,  superb  unconcern. 

"  Well,  I  see  that  you've  not  come  to  talk  with 
me,  but  with  Miss  Fenton,"  I  said.  "Is  it  the 
same  subject  that  keeps  you  constantly  anxious, 
sefiorita,  the  subject  of  fickle  Frederic?" 

"  I  shall  say  what  I  shall  say." 

"She'll  not  see  you,  I  imagine,"  I  said  care- 
lessly. 

A  flash  of  her  eyes  broke  her  stony  coldness, 
yet  almost  instantly  she  was  as  unexpressive  as 
ever. 

"  I  will  detain  her  but  one  minute,  sefior,  but 
one  single  minute." 

I  remembered  her  tiny  dagger.  Had  the  flash 
in  her  eyes  been  illuminative  of  a  sinister  object 
in  making  this  visit?  Did  jealousy  bring  her 
here?  I  would  take  no  chances. 

"No,  you  cannot  see  her,"  I  said.  "You 
mean  her  some  injury,  some  harm." 

Her  head  rose.     "  I  do  not  stab  unarmed  per- 


sons." 


A  sharp  tongue  was  in  her  head,  and  she  knew 
how  to  use  it. 

"Then  Frederic  hasn't  taught  you  all  he 
knows,"  I  answered  coolly.  "If  you  think  I 


BARGAININGS  OF  A   VILLAIN    219 

killed  Joe  Lowden,  you're  mistaken.  But  your 
lover  might  find  blood  on  his  hands." 

For  a  moment,  she  returned  my  look  without 
evidence  of  surprise.  If  this  was  news  to  her, 
she  exercised  splendid  control. 

"Did  Frederic  kill  him?"  she  asked. 

"  He  did — killed  Joe  Lowden,  who  loved  you." 

"  I  did  not  love  him." 

"  One  cannot  doubt  the  Spanish  blood  in  your 
veins,  senorita,"  I  answered  ironically.  "Will 
you  be  so  cold  when  Frederic  lies  dead,  I  won- 
der? Well,  that's  beside  the  point.  You  had 
best  turn  about  and  go  home,  for  I  assure  you 
that  you  have  Frederic  wholly  to  yourself.  It's 
not  necessary  to  discuss  the  matter  with  Miss  Fen- 
ton.  I  can  promise  you  she  doesn't  care  the  tip 
of  a  finger  about  the  handsome  scoundrel — which 
you  would  do  well  to  imitate.  She  wouldn't  take 
the  fellow  for  a  gift,  and  doesn't  give  him  two 
looks  a  day." 

"Is  it  true?"  she  asked,  her  eyes  growing  lu- 
minous. 

"  On  my  word  of  honour." 

"  Then  I  will  return,  senor." 

"  And  try  to  forget  him,"  I  threw  in. 

Scorn  grew  on  her  face.  "  What  do  you  know 
of  women's  hearts?  And  of  love?"  she  said. 

"  I  know  he'll  desert  you  when  he  tires." 


220      THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

"For  this  princess!"  Her  eyes  blazed,  and 
she  clinched  her  hands.  "He  will  not  dare." 

"  Oh,  he  would  dare,"  I  smiled,  "  but  the  prin- 
cess will  not  have  him.  Besides,  he  will  have  me 
to  deal  with." 

"  You  love  her." 

"Why,  as  to  that  I  do  not  care  to  speak." 

"Ah,  you  love  her,"  she  repeated,  with  a  soft- 
ened manner.  "  It  is  well.  You  and  I  will  work 

together,  senor.  Now,  the  gold He  has 

told  me  nothing,  yet  I  know  a  little.  Look  be- 
neath your  feet." 

I  did  so — there  was  only  grass  and  gravel. 

"  Underneath  my  feet  1 "  I  stammered. 

"Yes,  senor." 

A  faint  smile  touched  her  lips,  an  inscrutable 
smile.  Next  moment  her  back  was  to  me,  and 
she  was  going  with  her  languid,  swinging  step 
down  the  slope.  What  in  the  name  of  all  that 
was  mysterious  did  she  mean?  I  stared  at  the 
ground  anew;  it  had  not  been  touched  with  a 
spade  since  Forge  was  established. 

Surrendering  to  the  enigma,  I  moved  toward 
the  house.  In  the  library,  I  ran  across  Douglass, 
ensconced  in  a  leather  chair,  and  drumming  the 
devil's  tattoo  on  the  table.  The  exercise  was 
singularly  appropriate  since  he  appeared  to  be  in 
the  devil's  own  mood. 


BARGAININGS  OF  A  VILLAIN    221 

"What  was  that  girl  saying  to  you?"  he  de- 
manded sharply. 

"That,  my  dear  Frederic,"  I  replied,  with  de- 
liberation, while  taking  a  seat,  "is  none  of  your 
business." 

He  started,  and  his  brow  darkened. 

"  I  allow  no  one  to  address  me  in  that  tone." 

"Then  don't  ask  impertinent  questions." 

I  lighted  a  cigar,  and  lounged  back  in  my  chair, 
much  pleased.  His  grand  manner  had  gone  stale; 
and,  like  a  spurious  gilded  metal,  the  brass  was 
beginning  to  show  through. 

He  drummed  with  his  fingers,  and  glowered. 

"  For  a  suspect,  our  manager  is  growing  bold 
as  a  lion,"  says  he,  "  and  by  to-night  he  will  be 
able  to  say  '  boo '  to  a  goose." 

"Yes,  I'm  suspected,  that  is  true,  my  dear 
Douglass." 

A  moment  longer  he  brooded,  while  I  exam- 
ined his  face,  and  observed  the  blood  come  and 
go  in  the  line  of  scar  on  his  cheek,  until  at  last 
he  dismissed  his  frown. 

"  See  here,  Maitland,"  he  said,  "  weVe  no 
business  to  quarrel,  for  we're  in  a  cursed  pep- 
pery mess  here,  and  must  face  it  out  together. 
We've  been  too  long  comrades  to  see  one  another 
set  on,  though  we  may  occasionally  fall  out  be- 
tween ourselves.  It  would  be  a  notorious  disgrace 


222      THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

if  Forge  House  were  divided  when  threatened  by 
danger.  I  shall  not  stand  by,  inactive,  and  see 
these  beggars  string  you  up,  like  any  felon." 

"  I  know  you'll  lend  a  hand,"  said  I. 

My  words  were  broad  enough  to  hold  truth. 

"  The  thing  is  to  act." 

"Or  wait,"  I  answered. 

"Wait,  no.  You're  taking  it  coolly,  I  know — 
and  very  commendable  it  is — but  there's  such  a 
thing  as  too  much  coolness.  No,  we  must  con- 
trive some  means  to  outwit  the  miners."  He 
bent  his  brows  in  excellently  simulated  study. 

"  My  conscience  is  clear,  that's  one  thing." 

"Good  to  have — but  I  never  heard  of  it  dis- 
solving a  halter."  He  shook  his  head  with  wis- 
dom. "  Keep  your  moralities  for  another  time, 
old  fellow,  and  let  us  plan  a  little.  Your  fingers 
are  in  a  hot  flame,  and  you're  very  insensible  not 
to  take  them  out.  If  the  truth  be  spoken,  Mait- 
land,  the  town  is  mad  to  stretch  your  neck." 

"  Yes,  by  their  calculation  my  toes  are  even  now 
about  leaving  earth." 

"Exactly." 

"  Yet  they  shall  go  no  higher,  God  helping." 

"  God  may  be  somewhere,  but  if  I  know  any- 
thing about  it,  I'll  venture  to  say  that  it's  not  in 
Forge,"  he  concluded. 

"  One  can  never  tell,"  I  speculated.     "  That  is 


BARGAININGS   OF   A   VILLAIN    223 

the  queer  thing  about  Him.  He's  putting  forth 
His  hand  when  we  least  expect  it." 

My  words  annoyed  Douglass,  who  was  a 
scoffer  at  things  sacred,  and  he  plucked  at  the 
tips  of  his  straw-coloured  moustache  and  knit  his 
narrow  brows. 

"Let  us  have  an  end  of  nonsense,"  he  ex- 
claimed. "  You're  not  the  *  Leave  it  to  God ' 
kind,  nor  am  I.  If  a  fellow  arrives  anywhere 
it's  by  use  of  his  own  wits  and  legs,  or  I  miscon- 
ceive this  universe  wonderfully.  And,  Maitland, 
that's  the  very  point  I  wish  to  impress  on  you." 
He  laid  one  arm  out  on  the  table,  palm  open  and 
up.  "  If  you  come  out  of  this  scrape  safely,  it 
will  be  by  our  work,  and  close  work  at  that.  I 
tell  you,  man,  you're  in  a  tight  hole." 

"Yes?"  I  said  gently. 

"A  very  tight  hole,  Maitland." 

His  look  was  fastened  on  me  full,  earnest,  and 
eager — just  a  bit  too  eager.  His  talk  had  too1 
consistent  a  drift  not  to  be  moving  toward  some 
premeditated  end. 

"  I've  been  in  tight  holes  before,"  I  said  calmly. 

"  Not  so  close  as  this,  I'll  wager.  You  must 
admit  that  the  evidence  against  you  is  nasty,  in 
fact " 

"  Only  circumstantial,"  I  interrupted,  with  a 
wave  of  my  hand. 


224      THE    PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

"  Conclusive."  He  leaned  back,  lighted  a  cig- 
arette, and  gazed  at  the  ceiling,  with  the  air  of  a 
judge  summing  up.  "The  knife  alone  is  enough 
to  hang  you.  Now,  we  must  act,  and  act  imme- 
diately. Here — an  idea  has  struck  me.  Why  not 
slip  over  to  Seattle  or  San  Francisco  until  this 
blows  over?  Meanwhile,  we'll  hunt  down  the 
real  man,  and  trice  him  up.  You  can  steal  away 
to-night — I'll  have  horses  ready,  and  you'll  make 
a  quick  run  for  Cold  Springs,  and  from  there 
make  your  own  speed  on  a  train.  What  say 
you?" 

I  had  his  purpose  at  last.  He  would  have  me 
damn  myself  in  the  eyes  of  my  friends  and  of 
Forge,  while  he  would  gain  by  having  the  appear- 
ance of  rendering  a  service. 

"There's  my  parole,"  I  opposed. 

He  snapped  his  fingers.     "  Amounts  to  that." 

"Well,  then,  Mr.  Fenton's  promise.  How 
would  he  explain?  " 

Douglass  laughed. 

"Explanations  are  the  bogies  of  little  minds, 
and  Mr.  Fenton  is  too  wise  a  man  to  stick  on  an 
agreement  made  under  duress.  A  word,  anyway, 
is  but  a  line  of  letters;  jumble  them,  and  you  have 
nonsense — straighten  them  and  you  still  have  it. 
No,  Mr.  Fenton  is  not  one  to  fear  explanations. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  Maitland,  he  privately  hinted 


BARGAININGS   OF   A   VILLAIN  .  225 

to  me  that  he  desires  you  to  go,  in  order  to  relieve 
him  of  responsibility,  though  he  would  not  say 
so  openly.  And  with  us  his  word  is  law,  you 
know." 

Douglass'  philosophy  and  not  Mr.  Fenton's 
views  engaged  me,  for  it  was  original,  new,  prac- 
tical, illuminative  of  the  man  before  me,  and 
would  have  certainly  made  the  ancient  philoso- 
phers pause. 

However,  I  heaved  a  profound  sigh  after  a 
time,  resolved  to  play  out  the  part.  "  I  might 
have  done  so,  once,"  I  said. 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"  It's  the  princess.  I'm  hanged  if  I've  the  will 
to  drag  myself  away  and  leave  you  here  alone  to 
the  conquest.  I  made  such  a  mess  of  our  ride, 
and  showed  so  little  to  advantage,  that  I  dare 
not  go.  You've  such  a  headway  there,  now,  that 
I  can't  afford  to  give  you  further  chances.  I  must 
win  back  into  her  favour  one  way  or  another. 
Your  rescue  has  put  me  clean  into  the  back- 
ground." 

He  smiled,  and  laid  a  hand  on  my  arm,  speak- 
ing with  a  show  of  fairness. 

"  I'm  frank  to  tell  you,  Maitland,  I'm  not  un- 
selfish in  my  plan.  I  grant  you,  it's  a  clear  field 
I'm  after,  as  much  as  your  safety.  But  I'll  tell 
you,  on  my  honour,  that  you  have  no  chance  with 


226      THE    PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

the  princess,  whether  you  go  or  stay.  The  kid- 
napping finished  you." 

"  It  came  nearer  it  than  you  know,"  I  put  in. 

"So  all  that's  left  for  you  to  do  is  to  exhibit 
a  fast  pair  of  heels,"  he  continued.  ;<  You'll  es- 
cape the  pain  of  the  halter,  likewise  that  of  our 
wedding." 

"You're  confident." 

"  I  am,"  said  he.  "  Now,  I'll  have  the  horses 
at  the  door  by  nine." 

I  shook  my  head.  "Too  late.  I'll  linger  on 
here,  and  see  what  happens." 

"  You  mean  you  won't  go?  " 

"That's  near  enough." 

He  struck  the  table  lightly  with  his  hand. 
"Are  you  going,  or  no?" 

"Not  I." 

"You  ride  to-night,"  he  said,  in  a  tense  voice. 
"Do  you  hear?  To-night!  I  intend  to  have  you 
out  of  my  way,  and  it's  only  by  this  grace  which 
I  allow  you  that  you  will  keep  a  whole  neck."  By 
now  he  had  thrown  off  his  mask  of  assumed 
friendliness,  and  his  blue  eyes  were  hard.  u  Your 
life  is  mine,  to  save  or  to  throw  to  this  pack  of 
wolves,  whichever  I  choose.  I've  but  to  speak, 
but  to  say  that  I  saw  you,  from  Inez's  house, 
riding  straight  home  from  the  mines  the  after- 
noon Joe  Lowden  was  killed,  or  to  remain  silent, 


BARGAININGS   OF   A   VILLAIN    227 

and  let  you  swing.  I  choose  to  remain  silent,  yet 
save  you.  You  ride  to-night,  or  I  stand  up  at 
your  trial,  and  state  that  I  saw  you  enter  the 
gully  with  the  boy." 

"Why,  that  is  a  threat,"  I  smiled. 

"A  bargain — your  safety  against  my  having  a 
free  hand  with  the  princess." 

With  curiosity,  disgust,  and  loathing,  I  ob- 
served him.  His  preposterous  proposal  bespoke 
the  blind  vanity  and  impudence  of  the  man.  I 
folded  my  arms  on  the  table,  and  looked  into  his 
eyes. 

"  Douglass,  I  regret  that  I  so  lowered  myself 
as  to  discuss  Miss  Fenton  with  you,"  I  said,  and 
this  time  there  was  no  lightness  in  my  tone. 
"  Moreover,  we'll  carry  the  pretence  of  friend- 
ship, or  even  politeness,  no  farther.  We  hate 
each  other,  have  hated  each  other  from  the  first 
day  we  met.  And  it's  no  wonder,  our  standards 
being  what  they  are.  I  had  the  respect  of  my 
father  and  mother  while  they  were  living.  In  my 
opinion,  you  cut  your  father's  throat  to  get  a  six- 
pence and  broke  your  mother's  heart  by  your 
crimes " 

As  I  spoke  of  his  mother,  he  sprang  up,  clinch- 
ing his  hands. 

"You're  not  fit  to  associate  with  decent  peo- 
ple," I  continued  steadily.  "  Wait  where  you  are 


228      THE   PRINCESS   OF  FORGE 

i — I  intend  to  read  you  a  little  of  your  history. 
By  your  shoulders,  you've  been  a  soldier,  British, 
I  presume,  and  were  probably  broke  in  the  service 
for  cheating  at  cards,  or  some  such  dirty  work. 
You  been  around  the  world,  and,  I  haven't  a 
doubt,  left  a  villainous  mark  wherever  you 
touched.  One  word  more.  You  can't  steal  gold 
here ." 

"  I  ? — prove  it.  Don't  try  to  shift  your  sins  to 
me,"  he  hissed. 

"And  make  me  your  scapegoat,"  I  went  on. 
"No,  I  can't  prove  it.  But  I  know  you're  the 
thief,  and  I  intend  to  see  that  you  get  your  just 
deserts,  if  I  give  them  to  you  with  my  own  naked 
hands.  Keep  your  fist  down,  Douglass,  or  I'll 
kill  you  where  you  stand." 

I  rose  as  I  finished,  while  he  drew  a  step 
back. 

"Yes,  let  there  be  no  pretence,"  he  sneered. 
"  For  you're  as  good  as  a  dead  man.  I  took  the 
gold  and  you  are  going  to  suffer  for  it." 

"  You  killed  Joe  Lowden,  also " 

"Why,  yes,  and  you'll  have  to  suffer  for  that, 
too,  my  fine  boy." 

"You're  frank." 

"  I've  nothing  to  fear  from  you,"  he  said,  with 
another  sneer,  "while  the  knowledge  will  make 
your  hanging  the  more  bitter,  damn  you  1 " 


BARGAININGS  OF  A  VILLAIN    229 

Just  at  that  moment  the  portieres  rustled  at  the 
opposite  end  of  the  room,  and  Mrs.  Arlington's 
blond  head  appeared  through  them.  She  floated 
across  the  room  to  us,  smiling  brightly. 

"  I  heard  voices,  so  I  came  in.    Do  I  intrude?  " 

She  smiled  more  prettily  than  ever,  taking  a 
pretty  woman's  privilege  of  interruption. 

"  We  were  both  growing  rather  bored  with  our 
talk,"  I  answered.  "You'll  liven  us  up." 

"  I  hope  it  was  not  the  same  old  subject  of  this 
murder.  I  can't  sleep  nights  any  more  for  dream- 
ing of  murders  and  kidnappings  and  a  thousand 
other  horrible  things." 

"Alas,  it  was  akin  to  murder,"  I  admitted 
cheerfully.  "  It  was  the  murderer  we  were  dis- 
cussing. Still,  Mrs.  Arlington,  it  was  rather  on 
the  bright  side  than  the  gloomy  that  we  were 
looking." 

"  How  nice !  Tell  me  about  it,"  she  said,  lean- 
ing forward,  with  pink  finger-tips  on  the  edge  of 
the  table. 

"  It's  this,  that  I'll  be  able  to  prove  my  inno- 
cence, when  the  time  comes,  through  the  gener- 
osity of  dear  old  Frederic  here.  You  see,  he  was 
making  an  afternoon  call,  Saturday,  upon  his 
fiancee,  Inez,  the  pretty  Mexican  girl,  of  whom 
we  all  know ;  and  he  tells  me  that,  from  her  door, 
he  saw  me  ride  straight  home  from  the  mines.  So 


23o      THE   PRINCESS   OF  FORGE 

that  will  clear  me.  Haven't  I  reason  to  feel 
cheerful?  Besides,  he's  agreed  to  tell  the  people 
of  Forge  about  it  at  the  trial.  That  straightens 
out  everything,  and  I  shall  yet  dance  at  his  wed- 
ding with  the  pretty  Inez." 

"  How  romantic !  "  Mrs.  Arlington  exclaimed, 
beaming  upon  Douglass. 

During  my  recital,  in  which  I  credited  myself 
that  I  had  picked  Douglass  up  very  neatly,  the 
man  remained  dumbfounded  by  my  words. 

I  laughed  aloud. 

"  He  and  his  dark-eyed  fiancee  have  had  a  little 
tiff,  Mrs.  Arlington,"  I  said. 

"Which  makes  love  the  more  delicious,"  she 
replied,  with  sparkling  eyes. 

"Lovers'  quarrels  are  like  April  clouds,  you 
know.  You  must  comfort  him." 

Nodding  gaily,  she  turned  to  the  Scotchman. 

"  I  will — I'll  find  out  all  about  it.  They  must 
make  it  up,"  she  said. 

"  Be  sure  and  learn  all  the  particulars  of  the 
wedding,"  I  added,  from  the  portieres. 

Thus  I  passed  out  and  away  from  the  light- 
nings of  Douglass'  eyes.  Many  words  would  he 
speak,  much  twisting  of  his  level,  pointed  mous- 
tache would  he  do,  before  he  explained  away  my 
tale  of  his  wedding.  For  Mrs.  Arlington  was  a 
very  penetrating,  subtle,  persistent,  dainty,  little 


BARGAININGS  OF  A  VILLAIN    231 

lady  when  she  was  determined  to  know  all  that 
there  was  to  be  known  of  a  thing.  And  this  was 
the  thing  dear  to  every  woman's  heart — a  lover's 
quarrel.  Yes,  Frederic  had  a  bad  quarter  of  an 
hour  ahead  of  him. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

FIRST    SORTIE    INTO    THE    ENEMY'S    CAMP 

I  NOW  come  to  the  last  two  days.  If  events,  in- 
stead of  clocks,  are  the  true  measurers  of  time,  as 
has  been  said  by  some  one,  these  forty-eight  hours 
were  the  equal  of  an  ordinary  year.  An  air  of 
suppressed  excitement  pervaded  Forge  House, 
which  would  have  been  marked  by  a  close  ob- 
server, though  a  superficial  calm  clothed  the  mem- 
bers of  our  household,  of  which,  I  am  sure,  each 
of  us  was  more  or  less  aware.  The  subject  of 
the  murder  was  avoided  as  if  by  tacit  agreement, 
conventional  topics  replacing  it;  but  our  conversa- 
tion was  forced,  long  breaks  of  silence  were  com- 
mon, and,  at  the  table,  appetites  were  fickle — save 
Charlie  Woodworth's,  which  I  verily  believe  will 
turn  up  hale  and  hearty  at  the  blowing  of  the  last 
trump. 

With  great  elaborateness,  so  great  and  careful 
that  it  hardly  carried  conviction,  Douglass  had 
explained  away  my  error  in  taking  his  words 
amiss.  //  he  had  been  at  Inez's  door — if! — 
where  he  had  not  been,  these  two  weeks  past — 
added  for  Ethys'  benefit — he  was  confident  that  he 

232 


INTO  THE   ENEMY'S   CAMP     233 

would  have  seen  me  riding  straight  home  from 
the  mines.  Well,  that  was  considerably  nearer 
the  truth  than  he  generally  got,  at  least,  which 
was  some  satisfaction;  and  so  the  matter  rested. 

During  these  two  days,  too,  the  princess  shone 
with  a  sort  of  hard  gaiety,  an  achromatic  brill- 
iancy, that  was  extremely  puzzling,  and  the  more 
unaccountable  in  that  it  appeared  to  be  inspired 
by  the  attentions  which  the  Scotchman  showered 
upon  her.  And  he  grew  prouder  under  her  smiles 
and  favours.  This  was  in  itself  enough  to  cast 
me  down;  and,  as  the  hour  of  my  trial  drew 
nearer,  and  I  realised  the  dangerous  character  of 
the  game  in  which  I  was  a  player,  together  with 
the  price  of  the  stake  if  I  lost,  I  grew  more  grave. 

First  thing  next  morning,  after  my  passage  at 
arms  with  Douglass,  I  conferred  with  Mr.  Fen- 
ton,  and  disclosed  Kelly's  story,  and  then  the 
Scotchman's  infamous  kidnapping  plot.  We 
agreed  that  men  should  be  sent  after  the  trial  to 
bury  the  bodies  of  the  dead  outlaws,  if  Gurley 
had  not  already  performed  that  work  with  his 
own  hands. 

"We  have  an  ugly  customer  under  our  roof," 
Mr.  Fenton  remarked,  tugging  at  his  grey  mous- 
tache. "  The  worst  of  it  is  that  we  can  do  noth- 
ing with  him  at  present,  therefore  we  must  treat 
him  as  usual  until  after  the  trial.  My  only  fear 


234      THE   PRINCESS   OF  FORGE 

is  that  he'll  take  alarm  before  we  can  seize 
him." 

"The  man's  too  sure  of  himself  to  do  that," 
I  said. 

"  If  he  knows  what's  best  for  him  he'll  run 
while  he  has  a  chance."  A  steely  gleam  shone 
from  his  eyes,  which  boded  ill  for  the  Scotchman, 
once  our  hands  were  untied.  "  I'll  send  him  to 
the  gallows,  if  I  spend  a  million.  To  eat  my 
bread,  to  take  my  pay,  to  make  love  to  my  niece, 
when  he's  stolen  my  money,  killed  my  workman, 
and  proved  himself  generally  a  traitor  and  a  vil- 
lain! He  shall  pay  well  for  it."  He  paced  the 
floor  slowly  and  determinedly,  cracking  the 
knuckles  of  his  long  fingers.  "You  have  prob- 
ably observed  that  he,  alone  of  us  all,  passes 
freely  back  and  forth  through  the  guards  about 
the  house." 

"Yes,  I've  noticed  it." 

"  I  must  get  a  messenger  down  to  Cold  Springs 
to  bring  the  sheriff.  This  farce  of  a  trial  can 
take  place,  but  it  shall  go  no  further  than  a  trial." 
Then,  after  a  pause :  "  I've  arranged  with  one 
of  the  Japanese  to  go  to-night  at  nine;  it  will  be 
dark,  and  the  moon  not  yet  up.  A  dash  from  the 
back  of  the  house  and  along  the  mountainside  be- 
hind the  town  will  take  him  out.  He  is  not  to 
spare  the  horse.  He  should  reach  Cold  Springs 
by  dawn." 


INTO   THE   ENEMY'S    CAMP     235 

"  Have  him  look  for  a  deputy  named  Collins," 
I  said.  "The  sheriff  may  be  absent." 

He  nodded.     "  I  will  tell  the  boy." 

Our  council  of  war  brought  us  to  twelve  o'clock. 
When  we  separated,  I  bumped  into  Charlie. 
With  mystery  written  all  over  him,  he  drew  me 
into  a  corner,  and  whispered  in  my  ear: 

"  I've  a  scheme.  When  I  went  down  to  chat 
with  Frenchy,  I  slipped  one  of  his  chisels  into  my 
pocket.  We'll  crack  Douglass'  crib  to-night." 

"What  do  you  think  you'll  find  there?"  I 
laughed.  "  Do  you  think  he's  one  to  leave  stuff 
lying  around  loose?" 

"We'll  investigate  his  rooms  on  principle." 

I  paused.     "  It  might  be  worth  while." 

Thereupon,  I  told  him  Kelly's  account  of  the 
murder,  which  news  elated  him. 

"His  clothes  will  be  all  bloody.  We  must 
seize  them,"  he  whispered. 

"Well,  I've  my  doubts  that  we  discover  any- 
thing." 

"  Oh,  pshaw,  I  know  we  will." 

Douglass  himself  interrupted  us  by  descending 
the  stair  at  that  moment.  His  chin  was  in  the 
air,  and  he  hummed  a  gay  melody.  Pausing  as 
his  foot  touched  the  last  step,  he  looked  at  me 
significantly. 

"You're  still  here,  I  see,"  he  said. 

"I  am." 


236      THE    PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

"  There's  yet  time  to  carry  out  what  I  proposed 
yesterday." 

"  It  will  not  be  carried  out." 

His  brows  lowered. 

"  It's  the  first  time  I've  ever  soiled  my  hands 
by  trying  to  help  a  murderer — it  will  be  the 
last." 

"  I  doubt  both  statements,  Douglass,"  I  re- 
marked, in  answer. 

Just  then  Charlie  broke  into  the  conversation, 
a  cheerful  grin  spreading  over  his  face.  A  su- 
preme delight  in  annoying  my  independent  as- 
sistant had  always  been  his,  and  of  late  he  had 
devoted  himself  to  every  opportunity. 

"What's  the  row,  Scotchy?"  he  inquired. 

Douglass  came  forward  a  step. 

"  Repeat  that,"  he  said,  with  a  white  smile. 

Charlie  set  his  hands  on  his  hips,  and  with  a 
tone  of  bedevilment  repeated  the  offensive  word. 
"Shall  I  say  it  again?"  he  asked. 

An  angry  light  appeared  in  Douglass'  eyes,  but 
Charlie's  impudent  grin  was  too  much  for  him. 
Disgust  succeeded  anger.  He  made  a  gesture  of 
impatience,  walked  to  the  door,  then  faced  about 
with  his  hand  on  the  knob. 

"  I've  seen  gawky  youngsters  in  my  time,"  he 
sneered,  "but  your  manners  would  make  even 
them  hoot  you.  You  don't  know  how  to  talk, 


INTO   THE   ENEMY'S   CAMP     237 

walk,  or  eat.  You  let  your  hair  hang  in  your 
eyes,  like  a  yokel " — none  of  which  was  true — 
"  Mr.  Fenton  should  pack  you  off  to  a  boys' 
school  for  a  good  birching  until  you  become  a 
man.  As  it  is,  you're  but  an  overgrown,  insuf- 
ferable puppy." 

"All  right;  I'll  imitate  your  airs,"  my  com- 
panion sent  after  him,  as  he  flung  out  of  the 
door. 

"  He's  in  a  temper  this  noon,"  I  said. 

"  This  is  too  good  to  keep ;  I  must  tell  Ethys," 
Charlie  said,  and  went  off  to  find  her. 

Since  my  adventure  in  the  log  house,  I  had  had 
an  overpowering  curiosity  concerning  Douglass' 
affairs  and  movements,  for  I  knew  that  when  he 
was  busiest  it  was  about  me.  I  glanced  out  of 
the  window;  he  was  not  in  front  of  the  house.  I 
slipped  through  the  hall  and  into  the  kitchen,  past 
the  pair  of  imperturbable  Japanese,  and  took  my 
station  at  one  of  the  curtained  windows  that  gave 
upon  the  rear.  Presently,  Douglass  appeared 
around  a  corner,  footing  it  rapidly  toward  the 
stables,  where  the  Frenchman  stood  sunning  him- 
self, like  any  honest  man.  They  disappeared 
within.  Feeling  to  see  that  my  revolver  was  by 
me,  I  stole  out  of  the  house  and  down  to  the 
rear  of  the  outbuildings,  reconnoitring  until  I 
stopped  beneath  a  square  aperture  in  the  wall, 


238      THE    PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

through  which  came  the  sound  of  their  voices.  A 
hundred  yards  away,  two  or  three  guards  eyed  me 
with  interest,  but  made  no  move  in  my  direction. 
So,  crouching  close  to  the  stones,  I  soon  caught 
the  thread  of  the  two  villains'  talk. 

"  Duke  is  fit  for  anything,"  Douglass  was  say- 
ing. 

"Ah,  then  let  us  use  him  to-night.  There  is 
danger."  The  speaker  was  D'Urville.  "  I  had 
the  sign  again,  oui,  Frederic.  Twice  has  my  pin 
worked  loose  in  my  scarf,  it  is  so.  Has  it  ever 
failed  to  warn  me,  or  proven  false,  mon  cama- 
rade?" 

"  Danger — faugh !    The  house  is  full  of  fools." 

"  But  no,  my  Frederic.  This  Maitland  is  no 
fool.  Did  he  not  suspect  in  the  very  beginning? 
Aha,  I  felt  the  seal  ring  on  his  finger,  and  knew 
him  the  night  when  we  struggled  in  the  dark." 

"  He  can  do  nothing.  He'll  hang,  I  tell  you, 
hang." 

"  My  friend,  how  came  he  here  from  the  house 
in  the  ravine?  It  is  unexpected,  unexplained." 

"  I've  explained  that  a  dozen  times,  D'Urville. 
I  cut  him  loose  by  mistake,"  Douglass  replied, 
with  impatience. 

"There  should  be  nothing  of  mistakes,  never. 
It  was  a  mistake,  that — it  is  a  mistake,  this,  Fred- 
eric, to  linger.  He  knows  too  much,  and  he  is 


INTO   THE   ENEMY'S   CAMP     239 

not  yet  hung  by  the  neck;  no,  not  yet  by  many 
hours.  If  you  must  remain,  let  him  die  now,  and 
by  a  knife  surely.  Be  content  with  the  gold, 
more,  and  let  us  go.  It  moves  badly  always  to 
mix  love  and  business.  You  have  a  great  weak- 
ness, Frederic,  a  too  great  weakness  of  the  heart. 
One  should  love,  but  never  with  the  heart." 

Douglass  broke  forth  in  a  laugh. 

"  You  think  it's  the  heart — well,  it  is,  but  the 
head's  on  top  of  it.  No,  I've  a  chance,  man,  in 
that  direction.  She's  bending  now.  And  when  I 
marry  her,  D'Urville,  we'll  stand  in  gold  to  our 
knees." 

"Women  cook  the — what  you  English  say — 
the  goose,"  was  the  calm  reply. 

"I'll  have  her,"  Douglass  cried,  "if  I  steal 
her!" 

"Ah,  it  is  the  heart,  after  all,  my  Frederic, 
that  keeps  us,"  the  other  sighed.  "  It  would  be 
wise  to  go,  but  we  will  stay,  mon  ami,  if  you  wish 
it."  A  pause  succeeded;  then,  finally,  "The  Gros 
Pete,  where  is  he?" 

"  I  haven't  heard  a  word  from  him  or  the  gold. 
If  that  ruffian  skipped  with  the  bricks,  I'll  cut  his 
windpipe." 

"The  gold,  I  have  it,"  quietly  announced  his 
ally. 

"  The  devil  you  have ! " 


24o      THE   PRINCESS   OF  FORGE 

"Yes.  I  followed  the  messenger,  Mac,  and 
put  my  knife  into  him  a  little — so.  He  is  passe" 

"  Good !  There's  no  need  of  their  having  any, 
after  all.  You're  a  very  proper  man,  D'Urville, 
one  in  a  thousand." 

The  Frenchman  once  more  came  hack  to  the 
attack. 

"Shall  we  not  go?" 

"  Have  done  with  that ! "  Douglass  cried. 

"  But  there  is  a  great  danger.  Listen,  I  have 
not  told  you  all.  For,  look,  when  the  canaille 
came  yesterday,  I  waited  here  until  they  dispersed, 
and  then  I  walked  very  quietly  around  to  the 
front,  my  Frederic.  Then,  as  I  stood  by  the  office 
door,  I  began  to  hear  a  little  talk,  so  I  put  my 
ear  closer.  It  was  the  Irish  Kelly  and  Maitland. 
Kelly  saw  you  at  the  gully — hein!" 

A  profound  silence  followed  this  statement.  I 
would  have  given  a  hand  to  have  seen  how  Doug- 
lass took  the  news.  But  chagrin  that  the  secret 
was  out  swallowed  my  curiosity,  and  I  knew  for 
a  certainty  now  that  the  coat  tails  which  I  had 
pursued  about  the  corner  of  the  house  belonged 
to  the  fat  little  Frenchman,  as  I  had  guessed.  He 
had  overheard  Kelly's  account  of  the  murder. 
Would  the  birds  now  fly? 

At  last,  Douglass  spoke: 

"  I  stay.    Let  him  blink." 


INTO   THE   ENEMY'S   CAMP     241 

Blink!  What  the  deuce  did  that  mean?  It 
was  thieves'  jargon,  no  doubt.  And  I  judged  that 
Douglass  had  made  up  his  mind  to  risk  the  Irish- 
man's story,  and  deny  it. 

A  new  idea  darted  into  my  mind.  Creeping 
away,  I  ran  softly  and  swiftly  to  the  shop.  I  had 
heard  all  of  value  that  they  had  to  tell;  now  I 
would  go  seeking  while  the  opportunity  was  mine. 

The  door  of  the  building  stood  open.  I  sprang 
in,  swung  it  shut,  and  hurriedly  examined  boxes 
and  cupboards.  They  yielded  nothing.  Up  the 
stairs  I  ran,  four  steps  at  a  time,  into  the  loft. 
Divided  by  rough  partitions  into  three  rooms,  I 
found  myself  in  the  first.  A  rapid  inspection 
showed  me  nothing  of  importance  here,  for  it  was 
full  of  lumber  and  junk  of  all  kinds,  the  leavings 
of  the  shop  below.  I  entered  the  second  room, 
which  proved  to  be  the  Frenchman's  attiring 
apartment,  if  so  it  may  be  called;  on  nails  about 
the  walls,  were  hung  trousers,  shirts,  and  other 
articles  of  apparel.  In  a  dark  corner  sat  a  chest, 
its  hasp  unfastened.  My  heart  gave  a  bound.  I 
ran  to  it,  flung  up  its  lid,  and  peered  in.  It  con- 
tained a  lot  of  trash,  worn-out  garments  and 
gloves,  tools,  cloth,  pipes,  what  not,  which  I 
tossed  this  way  and  that  in  my  eagerness  to  get 
at  the  bottom. 

All  at  once  there  came  a  soft  tread  behind  me. 


242      THE    PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

I  straightened  up,  moving  to  one  side  as  I  did 
so,  and  turning  about.  Something  heavy  as  iron 
struck  me  a  glancing  blow  on  head  and  shoulder, 
a  stream  of  stars  danced  before  my  eyes,  and  I 
staggered  back.  I  beheld  a  figure  advancing  upon 
me,  the  figure  of  a  man,  and  in  his  hand  he  car- 
ried an  uplifted  club.  I  fumbled  in  my  pocket, 
at  last  brought  my  revolver  out,  and,  pulling  the 
hammer  back,  let  it  fly,  without  touching  trigger. 
The  club  descended,  but  weakly,  while  a  curse 
broke  from  my  assailant's  lips. 

The  little  trick  of  gun  play  that  I  had  learned 
in  Alaska  had  saved  me.  The  man  remained, 
swearing  and  holding  his  wrist,  from  which  the 
blood  streamed,  while  I  leaned  against  the  parti- 
tion, and  steadied  myself,  the  report  of  the  shot 
ringing  in  my  ears,  the  smell  of  powder  in  my 
nostrils.  Gradually  my  brain  cleared  from  the 
effects  of  the  blow.  Through  the  dimness  of  the 
room,  I  recognised,  in  the  fellow  who  nursed  his 
wrist,  the  absent  witness,  Garrett,  the  man  who 
had  failed  to  appear  and  testify  against  me  the 
day  previous.  I  had  nipped  him  only,  but  that 
was  enough. 

'"What  are  you  doing  here?"  I  demanded. 

"  Stayin',"  was  his  surly  reply. 

"Hiding  in  D'Urville's  rooms,  eh?  And  I 
suppose  you  were  keeping  snug  here  yesterday, 


INTO   THE   ENEMY'S   CAMP     243 

when  Pelan  was  calling  for  you.  What  do  you 
mean  by  saying  that  I  killed  Joe  Lowden?" 
Anger  was  beginning  to  get  the  upper  hand  of 
me.  "  I've  a  notion  to  finish  you,  you  wretch. 
Then  you'll  not  swear  away  any  more  lives  in 
Forge." 

"  Don't  shoot !  For  God's  sake,  don't  shoot. 
Douglass  told  me  to  come  here." 

The  fellow  was  in  a  tremendous  fright. 

"And  accuse  me^did  he?"  I  shook  my 
weapon  before  his  pallid  face. 

"Yes." 

"  Get  back  into  your  burrow,  you  perjurer. 
You're  not  fit  for  the  work.  If  you  swear  to- 
morrow that  you  saw  Joe  Lowden  killed  by  me, 
I'll  shoot  you  down."  I  pointed  the  gun  at  his 
eyes.  "Take  a  good  look  at  it,  and  know  what 
to  expect." 

"  But — but  Douglass  says  he'll  kill  me  if  I 
don't,"  he  quavered. 

"  I'll  kill  you  first,  if  you  do,"  I  said  fiercely. 

Hunting  further  for  the  gold  or  evidences  of 
crime  was  out  of  question.  So  I  made  my  way 
down  the  stairs,  my  head  yet  aching  a  trifle  from 
the  blow  it  had  received.  As  I  set  foot  on  the 
shop  floor  the  door  was  jerked  open,  and  in  hur- 
ried the  pair  who  had  been  talking  in  the  stable. 
At  sight  of  me,  the  conspirators  stopped  short. 


244      THE    PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

"Ah,  it  is  only  monsieur,"  said  D'Urville  ur- 
banely. "That  is  well;  we  are  relieved.  We 
heard  a  shot,  we  feared,  we  came  with  great 
quickness.  But  monsieur's  presence  assures  our 
hearts." 

Douglass,  however,  was  not  so  well  poised. 

"What  are  you  doing  here?"  he  questioned. 

"I  might  ask  you  the  same  question.  And 
since  when  has  the  door  of  this  shop,  or  any 
other,  been  barred  to  the  manager  of  the 
mines?" 

His  lip  curled.  ;c  You're  no  longer  manager — 
you're  a  prisoner.  I'll  have  you  know  that  I'm  in 
charge  now,  by  Mr.  Fenton's  orders,  to  govern 
as  I  see  fit.  I  order  you  out."  D'Urville  laid  a 
protesting  hand  upon  the  speaker's  arm,  but 
Douglass  shook  it  off.  "  You're  a  prisoner,  and 
I'll  not  tolerate  your  running  about  loose,  when 
I'm " 

"Liar,"  said  I  pleasantly. 

"When  I'm  responsible  for  your  person." 

"  I  was  of  the  opinion,"  I  replied  coolly,  "  that 
Mr.  Fenton  was  the  man." 

"  Fenton,  or  I— it's  all  one.    Go ! " 

"  Douglass,  your  lies  grow  very  tiresome,"  I 
answered.  "  Needless  to  say,  that  I  shall  go  when 
I'm  ready;  no  sooner.  If  you  have  the  authority 
you  claim,  why,  exercise  it.  There's  nothing  in 


INTO   THE   ENEMY'S   CAMP     245 

the  wide  world  that  I  would  more  love  to  have 
you  try." 

I  leaned  against  a  work-bench,  balanced  my  re- 
volver carelessly  upon  my  palm,  and  waited.  But 
it  was  the  Frenchman  who  made  the  next  move. 
He  advanced  a  step,  raising  a  gentle,  fat,  con- 
ciliatory hand. 

"  Monsieur,  we  welcome  you  where  you  have 
every  right  to  come,"  he  said  affectionately.  "  We 
are  all  gentlemen;  let  us  not  speak  hastily.  Mon 
ami,  forgive  Frederic.  He  is  impatient,  a  little — 
what  you  say — petulant? — yes.  The  magnificent, 
the  playful,  Duke  made  a  bite  of  his  arm,  so." 

"  Duke  has  performed  the  best  service  of  his 
life,"  I  answered  drily. 

"Ah?  Oh,  that  Duke!"  he  said,  beaming. 
"He  is  a  pet,  spoiled — the  enfant  terrible!" 

Douglass  swung  about  on  his  heel,  and,  with- 
out a  word,  walked  out  the  door  and  up  the  slope. 
D'Urville  watched  him  sorrowfully. 

"  Pauvre  Frederico"  he  sighed,  out  of  the 
roundness  of  his  bosom,  "  he  has  the  quickness  of 
temper,  alas !  It  is  not  well  to  have  it,  n'est  c'pas, 
monsieur?  Now  we  have  it  not,  no.  We  have 
the  calm."  And  he  smiled  approvingly  at  me. 

Of  the  pair  of  them,  I  was  beginning  to  choose 
D'Urville  as  the  more  adroit,  the  finer,  villain. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

THE  GENTLE  ART  OF  MAKING  LOVE 

THERE  is  one  loose  end  of  my  story  which  may 
here  very  properly  be  picked  up.  It  will  be  re- 
membered that  the  Scotchman  had  led  our  guests 
forth  one  night  on  an  exploring  expedition  of  the 
abandoned  mine  in  the  base  of  Anvil  Rock;  and 
that,  as  the  party  left  the  house,  Douglass  boasted 
to  me  that  he  would  that  night  stretch  out  his 
hands  to  receive  the  gifts  of  the  gods,  meaning 
by  that  the  princess  and  her  fortune.  Something 
had  occurred  during  their  absence  which  made 
Douglass  sulky  and  Woodworth  jubilant;  and  the 
former  did  not  get  the  gifts  before  mentioned. 
What  had  taken  place  I  did  not  learn  until  this 
day. 

It  happened  that  Charlie  and  I  were  together 
again  late  in  the  afternoon. 

"  I'd  like  to  know,  by  gad,  why  she  let's  that 
scoundrel  trail  round  her  skirts,"  he  said.  "  He's 
making  up  to  her  as  if  he  were  a  king's  own  gen- 
tleman. Now  he's  just  contrived  to  get  her  alone 
in  the  library." 

246 


GENTLE  ART  OF  MAKING  LOVE    247 

"  But  she  doesn't  know  he's  a  scoundrel,"  I  re- 
marked. 

"  She  suspects  his  secrets,  I  swear." 

"  Which  possibly  makes  him  attractive  for  the 
moment,"  I  said.  "Moreover,  he  has  a  glib 
tongue  when  he  wishes  to  use  it." 

"  Humph,  women  are  queer !  During  the  last 
two  days  she's  kept  him  dancing  round  her  at 
will,  smiling  at  him,  chatting,  looking  his  way,  or 
calling  him.  Before  that  she  was  offish,  yes,  ever 
since  they  were  over  in  that  old  mine — I  never 
told  you  about  that?  " 

He  looked  obliquely  at  me  over  his  pipe. 

"  No,  but  I  recall  that  you  had  some  secret  up 
your  sleeve  that  seemed  to  give  you  a  good  deal 
of  enjoyment." 

"Well,  don't  give  it  away,"  he  said,  after  a 
long  puff  or  two,  "  if  I  tell  you.  I  wouldn't  care 
particularly  to  have  Ethys  learn  that  I  overheard; 
though  I  couldn't  help  but  hear.  Anyway,  I  don't 
think  she'd  care  such  a  tremendous  rap.  It  just 
happened,  that's  all." 

"  Get  ahead  with  it,"  I  said. 

"You  know  the  mine  isn't  the  labyrinth  some 
of  them  are — no  fear  of  losing  one's  self  in  it. 
When  we'd  pottered  about  for  a  while,  we  came 
to  a  parting  of  the  ways.  Douglass  and  Ethys 
were  for  trying  one  direction,  the  rest  another, 


248      THE    PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

and  I  was  indifferent.  Being  the  tail  of  the  dog 
leaves  you  no  responsibility,  you  know.  Privately, 
I  wanted  to  get  home.  They  settled  the  matter 
by  each  taking  a  passage,  as  they  came  together 
somewhere  farther  on,  and  half  the  dog  went 
each  way,  so  to  speak.  I  couldn't  wag  after  both, 
so  I  considered  my  duty  done,  and  down  I  sat  on 
a  rock  by  the  jut  of  the  intersection,  to  await  their 
return. 

"  I  experimented  smoking  my  name  on  the  wall, 
succeeding  so  well  that  I  finally  put  out  my  torch 
in  the  occupation.  I  had  no  matches,  and  was 
forced  to  sit  still  in  the  dark,  this  time  without 
any  say  in  the  matter.  Pretty  soon  I  heard  voices 
coming.  Just  before  they  reached  me,  they 
stopped.  I  peeped  around  the  corner  into  the 
other  passage  to  see  what  was  up,  and  caught 
sight  of  Ethys  and  Douglass  standing,  not  ten  feet 
from  me,  their  faces  lighted  by  the  torches  they 
carried. 

"The  fellow  started  in  to  say  some  pretty 
things  to  her,  upon  which  I  drew  back  into  my 
hiding-place  again,  for  it  was  too  late  by  the  time 
he  had  spoken  to  let  them  know  I  was  about.  A 
fine  fix  I  was  in !  For  the  life  of  me,  I  could  think 
of  nothing  better  to  do  than  what  I  was  doing, 
and  that  was  to  do  nothing.  If  I  started  away 
I  would  have  got  lost.  So  I  sat  like  a  dummy, 


GENTLE   ART   OF  MAKING   LOVE    249 

listening  to  their  voices.  Ethys  pretended  that  he 
was  jesting,  and  took  it  as  a  jest,  but  it  was  no 
jest  for  our  stunning  Frederic.  Five  minutes 
passed,  the  scamp  growing  bolder.  All  at  once 
he  drove  the  jest  out  of  the  play  for  her,  too,  by 
something  he  did.  I  heard  a  clatter  on  the  rock, 
and  so,  took  another  peep.  His  torch  lay  flaming 
on  the  floor  of  the  tunnel,  her  back  was  against 
the  wall,  and  she  was  warding  him  off  with  her 
hands. 

"Up  I  jumped,  getting  an  awful  whack  from 
a  beam  of  timber  just  over  my  head.  It  was  sim- 
ply a  stunner,  putting  me  out  of  the  game  for  a 
minute,  and  stopped  me  from  becoming  a  hero 
and  knocking  the  scoundrel  down.  I  missed  a 
chance  there,  my  boy,  that  I'll  never  have  again. 
Well,  when  he  saw  the  fright  in  her  eyes,  he  drew 
back.  You  see,  he  had  thought  to  sweep  her  off 
her  feet  and  into  his  arms  by  the  impetuosity  of 
his  love-making,  the  story-book  kind,  but  she  took 
it  differently.  So  he  put  tiller  about,  as  the  fellow 
always  finds  it  easy  to  do,  and  trimmed  sail  by 
playing  the  sorrowful.  Meanwhile,  I  had  my 
mouth  open,  and  was  taking  it  all  in. 

' 1  wouldn't  harm  a  hair  of  your  beautiful 
head ! '  says  he,  like  an  actor.  *  If  I've  been  car- 
ried away,  forgive  me,  Ethys ' — yes,  he  did.  Had 
the  beastly  nerve  to  call  her  Ethys.  'Your  eyes 


250      THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

and  face  and  whole  self  have  intoxicated  me,  and 
made  me  forget  everything  but  them.  I've  loved 
no  woman  until  I  saw  you,  and  I  would  stop  at 
neither  fire  nor  water,  no,  nor  death  itself  to  win 
your  love  and  you.  You  will  forgive  me,  Ethys  ? ' 

"The  rascal  positively  had  a  tremble  in  his 
voice,  I  swear  to  it!  A  thundering  good  actor 
was  lost  in  him,  if  I  do  say  it.  I'm  not  sure  but 
what  he  did  make  an  impression  on  Ethys,  fright- 
ened as  she  was,  and  though  she  had  only  known 
him  a  week  or  two.  You  know  how  it  is  with 
women — bless  'em ! — if  a  chap  tells  them  he  loves 
the  ground  they  walk  on,  it  excuses  a  lot  of  pre- 
sumption and  impertinence,  and  even  sins  of  the 
fellow. 

"She  finally  answered,  'We'll  continue  to  be 
friends,  Mr.  Douglass,  but  love  is  out  of  the 
question.  I  shall  not  love  any  man  for  many 
years  to  come.' 

"  '  But  I  may  love  you?  I  must — I  should  die 
if  I  did  not  I '  he  ranted.  Think  of  him  dying 
for  love! 

"  Well,  that's  all  of  the  story  that's  important, 
for  the  others  hove  in  sight  presently,  and  we  all 
met.  I  wish  Douglass  had  gone  a  trifle  farther 
in  his  Romeo  business,  or  that  I  had  not  whacked 
my  head,  for  I  would  have  loved  to  walk  into  him 
with  both  fists.  And  she  said  she  wouldn't  marry 


GENTLE  ART  OF  MAKING  LOVE    251 

for  many  years — there's  my  sentence.  What  an 
angel  she  is !  " 

"  Cheer  up,  Charlie,  you're  not  as  hard  hit  as 
you  were  a  fortnight  ago,"  I  encouraged. 

"  I'm  slowly  getting  over  it." 

"  There's  many  another  angel  as  good  and 
beautiful." 

He  puffed  at  his  pipe,  and  stared  out  of  the 
window.  "  I  really  was  never  more  than  half  in 
love  with  Ethys,"  he  said,  with  resignation.  "  I 
knew  in  the  beginning  I  had  no  chance.  She 
laughed  at  me,  and  said  I  was  too  young." 

"  You  have  plenty  of  time  yet." 

"I  suppose  so.  Hello,  there's  D'Urville.  I'll 
go  down  on  the  avenue,  and  see  if  I  can  draw 
him  out  a  bit." 

I  caught  him  by  the  sleeve. 

"  Monsieur  D'Urville  is  a  very  amiable,  but 
also  very  cunning,  gentleman,  Charlie.  Look 
out,  therefore,  that  he  doesn't  draw  you  out  in- 
stead." 

"I'll  take  care." 

Off  he  went  to  join  the  pleasant,  well-fed 
Frenchman,  who  was  walking  up  and  down  be- 
fore the  turbine  house,  his  hands  behind  him, 
placid  as  a  landholder  upon  his  estates. 

"  I  will  attack  the  rest  of  the  enemy,"  I 
thought,  "and  see  if  I  can  rescue  the  princess 


252      THE    PRINCESS    OF   FORGE 

from  Douglass'  clutches.  Is  she  studying  him? 
Or  playing  with  him?  Well,  I  haven't  had  ten 
words  with  her,  in  an  age." 

The  library  was  empty.  I  strolled  in,  some- 
what disappointed,  for  by  Charlie's  information 
the  pair  should  have  been  present.  Discussing  in 
my  mind  the  wisdom  of  searching  farther,  I  halted 
in  the  middle  of  the  room.  A  faint  murmur  of 
voices  came  to  my  ears  from  a  curtained  alcove 
at  one  side.  They  were  there.  I  was  in  no  such 
strait  as  that  in  which  Woodworth  had  found 
himself  in  the  Anvil  Rock  tunnel;  retreat  was 
open  to  me,  and  I  silently  turned  to  depart. 

"  I  love  you,"  I  suddenly  heard  from  Douglass' 
lips;  impassioned  words,  clear  and  distinct  and 
rapid,  "  I  love  you,  and  you  have  led  me  to  be- 
lieve you  loved  me  also,  have  encouraged  me 
every  hour,  every  minute,  since  you  came  to  Forge 
House.  I  will — will  have  you  for  my  wife !  " 

I  stopped  like  a  shot.  Something  threatening, 
desperate,  sinister,  there  was  in  his  tone. 

Next  moment  sounded  Ethys'  reply,  full  of 
scorn. 

"  I  have  not  encouraged  your  suit,  as  you  say. 
I  have  only  sought  to  be  friendly.  Now  on  the 
strength  of  what  friendship  I've  allowed  you,  you 
attempt  to  accuse  me  of  wrong  intent,  and  you 
make  love  to  me.  How  dare  you!  And  that, 


GENTLE  ART  OF   MAKING  LOVE     253 

when  you're  already  betrothed,  when  you've  al- 
ready promised  to  marry  the  Mexican  girl." 

"One  of  Maitland's  lies." 

"/  believe  it." 

"A  lie,  on  my  honour,"  he  cried  bitterly.  "  You 
use  that  as  an  excuse  to  throw  me  aside  after  win- 
ning my  love." 

"You  endeavour  to  throw  her  aside." 

"No — or  if  I  have,  you're  the  cause  of  it." 

"I?    No." 

"  I've  saved  your  life,  yet  you  give  it  not  so 
much  as  a  thought." 

"You  saved  my  life,  Mr.  Douglass?"  she  said 
slowly.  "You  mean  from  the  kidnappers,  I  sup- 
pose." 

A  peculiar  intonation  of  her  words  seemed  to 
give  them  a  hidden  meaning. 

"Yes,"  he  said  sullenly. 

"You  are  not  generous,  sir,  to  speak  of  the 
obligation  you  laid  me  under." 

"  So  you  scorn  me,"  he  answered.  "  I  lay  my 
heart  in  your  hand,  a  heart  as  true  as  the  world 
holds,  yet  you  fiing  it  aside  like  a  worthless  clod. 
I  will  have  you!  Your  eyes  draw  me  like  stars, 
your  lips  woo  me  like  twin  brides.  I  will  cast 
myself  down  into  hell,  or  climb  to  heaven,  but 
what  I  will  have  you,  have  you  to  hold  in  my 
embrace." 


254      THE    PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

Surely,  the  man  had  gone  mad!  I  softly  crept 
nearer.  A  startled,  frightened  exclamation  fol- 
lowed from  Ethys.  Then  she  cried  low,  "Let 
my  hands  go,  sir." 

A  suppressed,  menacing  laugh  from  Douglass 
was  her  answer. 

"  You've  led  me  a  dance,  my  princess,  kept  me 
jerking  at  string  ends.  What?  Shall  one  dance 
without  the  wine  after?  Shall  one  love  without 
the  kisses?" 

"  Let  me  go !  "  she  panted. 

A  sound  of  pushed  chairs — they  were  strug- 
gling. Three  steps  I  made  to  the  curtain,  and 
laid  my  hand  on  it,  and  so  waited,  all  afire  with 
anger. 

"Sweetheart!"  he  said,  and  again  he  laughed. 

"Oh,  stop,  sir!"  she  cried,  with  a  smothered 
voice.  " Have  you  no  respect  or  honour?  Uncle! 
Jack!" 

I  tore  aside  the  curtain,  and  sprang  into  the 
alcove.  She  was  fending  him  away,  while  he 
tried  to  push  aside  her  arms;  a  villainous  smile 
was  on  his  lips,  a  base  eagerness  in  his  eyes,  while 
on  hers,  both  eyes  and  lips,  lay  a  white  horror. 
He  leaped  back  at  sight  of  me. 

"Eavesdropper,"  he  said  darkly. 

I  waited  in  silence.  Ethys  ran  to  me,  shud- 
dering. 


GENTLE   ART  OF   MAKING  LOVE    255 

"Don't  let  him  touch  me,  Jack!"  she  begged. 

For  a  moment  he  only  twisted  the  horizontal 
points  of  his  moustache,  and  looked  at  us  with 
large,  mocking  eyes.  The  smile  on  his  lips  grew 
more  sardonic. 

"Ah,  it  is  the  thief,"  he  said  softly,  twisting 
and  twisting  his  moustache.  "And  well  come, 
too.  We  have  the  lover,  as  well  as  the  mistress. 
You  could  not  marry  me,  my  princess — oh,  no! 
I  was  not  the  man.  My  eyes  are  now  open,  and 
thank  God  for  it.  I  see  now  what  I  did  not  see 
before." 

With  a  single  leap,  I  reached  and  struck  him 
squarely  between  the  eyes.  He  dropped  full 
length,  where  he  lay  a  while,  dazed.  When  he 
rose  from  the  carpet,  the  pupils  of  his  eyes  were 
enormously  dilated,  the  whites  were  plain  all 
round,  his  face  was  pinched  and  strangely  livid, 
and  on  it  was  a  sort  of  hollow  wonder. 

"Struck — struck  down  by  a  puling  boy!"  He 
stopped,  and  laughed  wildly.  "Oh,  Christ's  tears! 
And  flouted  by  a " 

Again  my  fist  shot  out.  It  smote  upon  his 
tongue  the  shameful  words  he  would  have  uttered. 
When  next  he  looked  up  at  me  from  the  floor, 
blood  streamed  from  his  mouth  down  upon  his 
cheek,  and  he  was  scarcely  sensible.  In  my  soul 
there  raged  a  burning  desire  of  murder,  a  passion 


to  tear  him  limb  from  limb,  to  pull  the  very  cords 
of  life  from  his  body;  and  slay  him  with  my 
naked  hands. 

"  Jack !  Don't  kill  him,  Jack !  "  I  heard  Ethys 
crying. 

Slowly,  I  looked  toward  her.  Her  terrified 
eyes  met  mine;  she  trembled  from  head  to  foot. 
I  stared  from  her  to  him,  and  once  again  to  her, 
and  at  last  understanding  of  what  she  pleaded 
penetrated  my  brain.  The  throbbing  in  my  head 
gradually  lessened,  my  breathing  eased,  and  I  tried 
to  smile  at  her. 

"Is  he  dead?"  I  asked,  at  last. 

"No,  Jack." 

"Then  I've  yet  to  kill  the— — " 

Her  finger-tips  covered  my  mouth. 

"  Don't  speak  of  it." 

I  took  her  hand,  and,  leaving  Douglass  as  he 
lay,  -we  went  through  the  curtains  out  into  the 
larger  room.  There  I  stood,  seeking  to  brush 
away  the  red  mist  that  persisted  before  my  eyes, 
while  with  my  other  hand  I  gripped  her  fingers. 

"  The  scoundrel ! "  I  said,  with  a  final  pulsation 
of  rage. 

"Let  him  be — let  him  be,"  she  murmured. 
"Yet  what  would  I  have  done  if  you  had  not 
saved  me." 

Her  look  rose  to  mine,  her  eyes  like  stars,  and 


GENTLE  ART  OF  MAKING  LOVE    257 

her  hand  trembled  in  my  grasp.  Then,  as  if  in 
a  dream,  I  found  her  in  my  arms,  her  heart  beat- 
ing against  mine,  her  lips  meeting  my  lips. 

"Princess — princess  of  my  heart!"  I  whis- 
pered. 

"  I  love  you — love  you !  "  she  answered. 

And  her  face  was  radiant. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

SECOND  SORTIE  INTO  THE  ENEMY'S  CAMP 

IF  I  had  been  foolish  enough  to  believe  my  ene- 
mies' teeth  all  drawn,  what  occurred  early  this 
same  night  would  have  taught  me  the  futility  of 
confidence — to  say  nothing  of  overconfidence — 
when  pitted  against  such  men  as  Douglass  and 
D'Urville. 

About  eight  o'clock  the  news  came  up  to  Forge 
House,  brought  by  Pelan  himself,  very  grave,  that 
Kelly  had  staggered  into  his  store,  with  a  knife- 
thrust  in  his  throat,  and  there  had  choked  out  his 
lifeblood  in  a  vain  endeavour  to  speak  the  assas- 
sin's name.  More  than  a  human  instrumentality 
seemed  to  have  acted  in  this.  Two  minutes  be- 
fore the  assault,  Kelly  had  stood  upon  the  plat- 
form of  the  store  with  a  whole  throat,  and 
exchanged  a  word  with  a  passer-by;  it  was  still 
twilight,  and  the  near-by  arc  lamps  made  the  place 
as  light  as  day;  five  men  sat  all  the  while  not  forty 
feet  away  on  the  platform  of  the  neighbouring 
store;  and  yet,  when  the  alarm  was  raised,  noth- 
ing had  been  seen,  nothing  heard,  nothing  found. 
'Kelly  had  been  stabbed  to  death,  that  was  all. 

258 


A  SECOND   SORTIE  259 

To  Mr.  Fenton,  Woodworth,  and  me,  Pelan's 
intelligence  came  with  the  force  of  a  thunderclap. 
There  was  something  terrible  in  the  operations  of 
such  enemies  as  ours,  in  the  swiftness  with  which 
they  executed  their  plans,  the  certainty  with  which 
they  chose  their  victims,  the  boldness  with  which 
they  struck  them  down,  and  the  silence  with 
which  they  vanished.  We  knew  that  Douglass 
had  not  left  the  house  that  evening,  so,  conse- 
quently, the  stroke  which  had  ended  Kelly  could 
not  have  been  his,  but  D'Urville  had  been  at 
large.  No  doubt  was  in  my  mind  that  it  was  he, 
appearing  and  disappearing,  shadowless  as  a  phan- 
tom, who  had  sealed  the  Irishman's  lips  with 
death. 

At  nine,  Togo,  our  Japanese  servant,  stole  away 
from  the  house  on  the  back  of  my  horse.  Listen- 
ing, we  heard  no  challenge,  no  shot,  and  knew 
that,  in  the  darkness,  he  had  slipped  through  the 
miners'  net.  I  gave  vent  to  a  sigh  of  relief.  For 
with  Kelly  dead  my  case  was  a  very  ill  one;  I 
might  need  the  help  of  the  sheriff's  posse. 

Toward  ten  o'clock,  Woodworth  and  I  as- 
cended to  Charlie's  rooms,  resolutely  determined 
to  make  the  most  of  the  last  slender  chance  left 
to  us.  This  lay  in  entering  the  Scotchman's  apart- 
ments, to  discover  incriminating  evidence  of  his 
crime — a  forlorn  hope.  He  had  left  the  house 


26o      THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

some  minutes  before,  to  go  where  we  neither  knew 
nor  cared,  so  long  as  he  left  us  in  undisturbed 
possession. 

I  have  already  stated  that  the  house  was  a 
large,  rambling  structure.  The  portico,  of  stone 
like  the  house  itself,  was  supported  by  heavy 
arches,  that  ran  not  only  along  the  irregular  front 
of  the  building,  but  angled  round  and  likewise 
buttressed  the  eastern  wall.  Its  roof  was  flat, 
decorated  upon  its  outer  edge  by  a  low  parapet, 
and  it  passed  directly  beneath  all  the  windows 
overlooking  the  town,  among  which  were  Wood- 
worth's,  and,  a  little  farther  on,  Douglass'. 

Through  one  of  Charlie's  windows,  therefore, 
we  crept  upon  the  roof;  bent  upon  our  burglarious 
undertaking,  with  all  the  ardour  of  professional 
cracksmen.  The  purloined  chisel  was  in  Wood- 
worth's  hand.  All  about  us  the  night  was  still, 
with  only  the  murmur  of  the  river  and  the  cry  of 
some  night  bird;  the  darkness  was  thick,  for  the 
waning  moon  would  not  be  up  till  after  midnight, 
the  sputtering  arc  lamp  before  the  house  was  shut 
off  by  a  jutting  angle,  and  the  stars  dropped  but 
a  few  feeble  rays.  Cautiously,  we  made  our  way 
along  the  wall  until  we  reached  the  first  of  the 
Scotchman's  windows.  Under  its  edge  Charlie 
forced  his  tool,  and  slowly  pried  on  it.  The  fas- 
tener snapped,  and  our  way  was  free. 


A  SECOND   SORTIE  261 

"Easy  money,"  he  said  slangily. 

He  was  for  entering  first,  but  I  put  him  aside 
and  raised  the  sash.  Not  a  speck  of  light  showed 
within  the  room,  and  it  was  as  empty,  to  all  ap- 
pearances, as  a  tomb.  With  Charlie  to  hold  the 
sash,  I  put  a  foot  over  the  sill  and  crowded  in. 
As  I  thrust  a  finger  into  my  pocket  for  a  match, 
two  pairs  of  hands  seized  me,  while  a  low,  familiar 
laugh  sounded  in  my  ear.  I  had  reckoned  with- 
out my  host.  Neither  my  captors  nor  I  uttered 
a  word,  and  I  remained  motionless,  making  no 
effort  to  escape,  and  keeping  discreetly  silent,  so 
that  they  might  open  the  ball. 

One  of  the  men's  hands  brushed  over  my  face, 
with  the  finger-tips  touching  my  features  gently 
and  delicately,  in  the  manner  a  blind  person  dis- 
tinguishes a  friend  or  stranger. 

A  voice  spoke,  that  of  D'Urville. 

"It's  monsieur,  the  manager." 

"  Once  a  thief,  always  a  thief,"  said  Douglass, 
with  another  laugh. 

"You  should  know,  it's  your  line,"  I  re- 
marked. 

"He'll  follow  Kelly,  eh,  D'Urville?" 

"  So  you've  learned  about  him,"  I  said.  "  Well, 
it's  natural  your  French  friend  would  bring  you 
the  news." 

"  Very  natural,  my  dear  Thick  Pate.  D'Urville 


262      THE    PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

has  just  this  minute  given  me  the  full  particulars, 
and  you'll  agree  that  Kelly  was  very  neatly  de- 
spatched. The  Irishman  came  once  too  often  in 
my  way.  I'd  warned  him.  So  his  death  rests 
on  his  own  head.  Now  I  shall  soon  have  particu- 
lars of  the  passage  of  another  rare  bird  which 
will  not  need  be  told  me.  Can  you  guess  who  that 
rare,  long-legged,  blundering  idiot  will  be  this 
time?" 

"  I  wonder  if  it  can  be  one  Frederic  Douglass," 
I  replied. 

"No,"  said  he  shortly.  And  then,  in  a  low, 
menacing  tone:  "You  struck  me  this  afternoon, 
struck  me  twice.  We'll  see  how  you  pay  the  debt. 
No  man  may  strike  me  as  you  did,  and  live  long — 
as  more  than  one  man  has  learned  to  his  sorrow. 
You'll  be  found  at  the  edge  of  town  with  your 
throat  cut,  John  Maitland,  and  I'll  aid  in  the 
hunt  for  the  miner,  who,  drunk  and  angry,  per- 
formed the  deed.  Oh,  yes,  that  story  will  pass 
splendidly,  besides  saving  the  trial  and  incident 
expense." 

"  Scotch  thrift,"  said  I. 

"  Damn  your  insults  about  the  Scotch,"  he  burst 
out.  "There'll  be  an  end  of  them  now.  Turn 
on  the  lights,  D'Urville." 

The  Frenchman  switched  them  on. 

"Ah,  I  looked  for  white  cheeks — well,  they'll 


A  SECOND   SORTIE  263 

be    bloodless    enough    soon,"    Douglass    jeered. 
"Stick  him,  brother,  if  he  squeals." 

"Monsieur  is  considerate.  He  will  squeal  noth- 
ing." 

"  So  we  have  our  pretty  lover  come  to  gloat  over 
the  poor,  scorned,  cast-off,  melancholy  suitor," 
Douglass  continued.  "And  in  the  very  suitor's 
room,  too.  Ay,  the  lucky  lover  over  the  luckless 
lover — yes,  the  lucky  lover  who  left  the  luckless 
lover  lying  on  the  floor  with  never  a  good  Sa- 
maritan to  raise  him  up,  or  stanch  his  blood  with 
a  hanky,  or  comfort  him,  or  give  him  a  penny. 
Ken  ye  that,  D'Urville,  ken  ye  that?  Alas  for 
it !  That  luckless  lover  yet  shall  wed  while  lucky 
lover  lieth  dead.  'Tis  a  feckless  world." 

"  I'll  be  walking  when  you're  rotting,"  said  I. 

For  since  his  insult  to  Ethys  Fenton,  since  I 
had  stretched  him  on  the  carpet  with  a  blow,  I 
cared  not  to  make  further  pretence  of  friendli- 
ness. I  hated  him  with  a  good  hate. 

"Oho,  hear  ye  that,  D'Urville!"  he  mocked. 
"We  have  a  mighty  boastful,  brave  man  atween 
us.  Geek!" 

"  I  have  a  rogue  on  one  side  of  me,  and  a  High- 
land blackleg  on  the  other,"  I  observed. 

The  colour  mounted  to  Douglass'  face,  but  be- 
fore he  could  speak,  the  Frenchman's  suave  voice 
answered. 


264      THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

"Monsieur  is  brave,  oui,  a  gentleman.  What 
a  pity  that  thing  he  must  endure,  the  trial.  But, 
ah,  we  will  save  him  the  ignominy.  We  will  dis- 
pense it  from  him,  from  the  rough  canaille  save 
him,  from  the  vulgarness,  yes,  the  worry,  yes,  the 
little  vexations." 

Our  positions  still  remained  the  same,  I  stand- 
ing on  the  spot  where  I  had  been  seized,  and  each 
of  the  two  men  holding  me  by  an  arm  while  they 
made  merry  at  my  expense.  I  calmly  awaited  the 
time  when  I  should  have  the  last  laugh. 

"Do  you  think  you'll  find  the  gold?"  the 
Scotchman  continued. 

"  Possibly." 

"In  this  room,  perhaps?"  I  held  my  peace. 
"He  is  sulky,  D'Urville.  You're  going  to  shut 
your  eyes  presently,  my  good  fellow,  and  sleep 
a  long  time.  I  wonder  where  you'll  go  ?  " 

"  It  will  not  be  in  one  particular  warm  place, 
where  you'll  end  up." 

"Undoubtedly  monsieur  will  go  to  heaven," 
D'Urville  suggested. 

A  faint  creak  came  from  behind  us.  Then 
Charlie  Woodworth's  brisk  voice  interrupted  the 
discussion : 

"Speaking  of  remote  places,  gentlemen " 

My  captors'  heads  turned  round  as  if  on  pivots ; 
their  astonishment  was  complete.  In  the  frame 


,» 


vjr/irw 

'  £?VJ    9/ 

M/W4VS' 

^imafr 

wm&Mjiiin; 


Woodworth  appeared,  drawing  a  fine 
bead  with  his  revolver  " 


A  SECOND   SORTIE  265 

of  the  window,  and  bulking  large,  Woodworth  ap- 
peared, drawing  a  fine  bead  with  his  revolver  on 
Douglass,  and  enjoying  the  situation  hugely.  Both 
men  dropped  my  arms  and  stepped  back. 

"  Speaking  of  remote  places,"  Charlie  repeated, 
"which  do  you  gentlemen  choose?" 

"Stick  them,  brother,  if  they  move,"  I  said 
grimly,  using  Douglass'  words. 

"On  one  side,  Jack — there.  Now,  gentlemen, 
slowly  manoeuvre  to  the  rear,"  Woodworth  or- 
dered. "That's  correct — left  foot,  right  foot, 
left  foot,  right  foot,  halt.  You  executed  that  very 
prettily." 

Silence  was  heavy  for  a  brief  moment.  The 
Frenchman  did  not  move  a  muscle  of  his  face; 
only  his  beady  black  eyes  shone  brightly.  As  for 
Douglass,  his  hand  went  up  to  his  moustache,  as 
was  his  habit  when  thinking  rapidly,  his  blue  eyes 
opened  full  in  a  concentrated  stare,  and  his  fore- 
head wrinkled. 

"Well  done,  Woodworth,  on  my  word!"  he 
exclaimed  directly.  "You've  turned  the  tables 
on  us  grandly,  and  made  a  joke  of  our  joke.  We 
thought  we  could  give  Maitland  a  good  scare  for 
creeping  in  here;  but,  by  Jove,  it's  you  who  have 
given  us  a  surprise.  Climb  in,  old  chap,  and  we'll 
have  a  drink  all  round." 

Grinning,  Charlie  stepped  through  the  window, 


266      THE    PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

still  lugging  his  revolver.  Douglass  crossed  to 
him,  and  touched  it  with  a  forefinger. 

"  Put  it  away,  my  dear  fellow,  and  let  us  have 
no  dull  reminder  of  our  poor  joke." 

"All  right,"  Charlie  answered,  and  stowed  it 
away. 

Woodworth's  presence  was  in  itself  sufficient 
safeguard  to  me.  If  I  had  been  alone,  my  two 
enemies  could  have  killed  me,  and  probably  would 
have  done  so,  but  they  could  not  plausibly  kill 
Charlie  as  well,  even  though  they  had  the  chance. 
Their  story  of  a  miner  cutting  my  throat  might 
pass;  but  it  would  be  absurd  if  both  of  our  throats 
were  slit.  So  there  we  were,  at  least  three  of  us 
deadly  enemies. 

Douglass  brought  forth  a  bottle  of  Scotch,  a 
siphon,  and  glasses. 

"  Excuse  me,  if  you  please,"  I  said  carelessly. 

Douglass  flushed.  My  refusal  to  drink  with 
him  was  notice  that  I  did  not  consider  it  worth 
while  to  fight  longer  behind  a  screen,  which  he 
loved,  and  that  I  was  out  in  the  open  with  my 
sword.  He  turned  to  Charlie. 

"  Excuse  me,"  said  my  ally,  with  another  grin. 
"  Since  I've  met  you,  Scotch  doesn't  agree  with  my 
stomach." 

Speaking  not  a  word,  Douglass  turned  to 
D'Urville,  poured  them  each  a  little  whiskey, 


A  SECOND   SORTIE  267 

pressed  the  clip  of  the  siphon  bottle,  and  sent  the 
stream  of  fizzing,  bubbling  water  into  the  glasses. 
Then,  carefully  wiping  his  hands,  he  raised  his 
glass,  and  looked  at  me,  with  a  venomous  smile, 
over  its  rim. 

"  To  the  lady  whom  we  all " 

"No,"  I  interrupted. 

"  I  shall  yet  have  to  send  you  to  hell,"  he  said. 

"  I  fear  I  should  not  like  the  place — there  would 
be  too  many  foreigners  present." 

Again,  he  raised  his  glass. 

"ToEthys " 

"  Stop ! "  I  cried.  "  You  shall  not  drink  to  her 
whom  you  insulted.  No,  not  before  me." 

With  a  swift  step,  I  reached  forward,  and  struck 
his  glass.  The  amber-coloured  liquid  splashed 
out,  part  flying  on  the  lapel  of  his  coat.  He 
brushed  off  the  drops,  then  set  his  glass  down. 

"  Three  blows — two  this  afternoon  and  now  a 
third,"  he  said,  with  the  cold  smile  that  had  never 
left  his  lips.  "  It  does  seem,  Maitland,  that  you're 
throwing  yourself  at  death."  And  then,  to  Wood- 
worth  :  "  Never  mind  about  dragging  your  gun 
out  again.  The  two  of  us  won't  fight — yet." 

"  Come,  Charlie,  let  us  go,"  I  said. 

"  Very  well ;  good  night,  gentlemen." 

Douglass  did  not  reply,  though  D'Urville  made 
us  a  low  bow. 


268      THE   PRINCESS   OF  FORGE 

The  sight  of  the  polite  little  man,  who  even  at 
most  stressful  moments  never  lost  his  exquisite 
manner,  caused  me  to  say: 

"  This  very  pleasant  occasion  reminds  me  of 
another  night,  Monsieur  D'Urville,  when  you  and 
J  met  in  the  dark.  I5y  the  way,  have  you  since 
got  the  kiss  you  asked  of  the  Mexican  girl  down 
by  the  gully?  No?  "  Douglass  gave  a  slight  start 
and  turned  his  eyes  on  his  confederate.  "Well, 
better  luck  next  time.  And  good  night  to  you, 
Douglass,"  I  concluded;  "to-morrow  will  be  a 
busy  day  for  us,  you  with  your  lies,  and  I  with 
my  life,  and  as  many  things  may  happen  of  which 
neither  of  us  know,  we  should  all  get  early  to 
bed." 

"That  is  true,  Maitland.  We  should  all  get 
what  sleep  we're  able,  though  in  any  event  you're 
sure  to  sleep  to-morrow  night  like  the  dead." 

"  So  it's  not  with  them,"  said  I. 

My  manner  was  more  jaunty  than  my  heart,  as 
I  spoke,  as  Charlie  and  I  backed  out  of  the 
window.  When  I,  who  went  last,  was  halfway 
through,  I  caught  sight  of  the  Frenchman,  paused, 
and  finally  laughed  outright.  There  was  no  deny- 
ing the  humour  of  that  cheerful,  portly,  deferen- 
tial villain. 

"Ah,  monsieur,  it  is  great  affections  we  bear 
you,  oui.  It  is  a  love." 


A  SECOND   SORTIE  269 

His  arms  were  stretched  wide,  in  an  all-embrac- 
ing gesture,  his  fat  figure  suffused  tenderness,  his 
face  shone. 

Like  the  curtain  man  letting  fall  the  drop  at 
the  end  of  a  comedy,  Douglass  lowered  the  win- 
dow, and  drew  the  shade.  The  'play  was  done, 
and  Charlie  and  I  sat  on  the  low  parapet,  specula- 
ting on  our  failure  as  cracksmen. 

"Will  they  skip,  do  you  think?"  he  asked. 

'"  It  might  save  me  trouble  to-morrow  if  they 
would,"  I  answered.  "With  Kelly  dead,  I'm  at 
the  end  of  my  string.  No,  Douglass  hates  me 
too  dearly  not  to  stay  to  see  the  finish.  He  knows, 
too,  that  I  haven't  a  shred  of  evidence  to  incrim- 
inate him  in  any  of  his  crimes." 

"  Hello,  here  is  a  ladder,"  said  Charlie. 

"  So  that  is  how  they  got  into  the  room  with- 
out our  knowing  it.  I  suppose  Garrett's  being  in 
the  shop  drove  them  to  this  camp." 

Presently,  there  came  from  the  darkness  of 
the  ground  a  low,  signalling  whistle.  We  could 
see  no  one.  The  signal  was  repeated. 

"  For  whom  is  that  ?  "  I  said. 

"Why,  Douglass,  of  course.  It's  under  his 
window." 

'  Then  let  us  investigate,"  I  replied,  swing- 
ing my  feet  over  upon  the  rounds  of  the  lad- 
der. 


270      THE    PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

If  not  for  Douglass,  whom?  And  Douglass' 
affairs  were  always  worth  looking  into.  I  whis- 
tled a  low,  answering  note  as  I  touched  the  earth, 
and  directly  before  me  I  distinguished  in  the  dark- 
ness the  figure  of  a  man.  I  approached  him, 
Charlie  at  my  back. 

"What  is  it?"  I  said. 

"Good,  youVe  come.  I've  lain  in  the  hills  till 
I'm  tired,  and  you  never  showed  up.  I  want  my 
share  of  the  gold,  or  I'll  cut  a  throat.  I  want 
it  now,  for  I'm  hittin'  the  trail  to-night." 

My  heart  gave  a  great  thump  as  I  recognised 
the  speaker's  voice.  I  made  one  spring,  clasped 
my  arms  about  his  elbows,  and  locked  my  hands 
about  his  back. 

"  Come  on,  Charlie,  it's  Pete — Long  Pete  Gur- 
ley! "  I  cried. 

Already  the  man  was  fighting.  Over  the  ground 
we  rolled  and  thrashed,  dragging  to  and  fro,  his 
huge  body  bending  and  shifting  in  an  effort  to 
break  my  hold.  The  fellow  was  like  an  enraged 
bull.  But  at  last  Charlie  wound  his  arms  about 
the  man's  legs,  I  pushed  the  cold  steel  of  my  re- 
volver against  his  cheek,  and  he  lay  quiet  as  a 
lamb. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  a  revolver  has  a  mag- 
netic influence  upon  the  person  at  whom  it  is 
pointed.  Pete  rose  up  at  our  command,  and  stood. 


A  SECOND   SORTIE  271 

Charlie  gripped  his  arm.  I  shoved  the  muzzle 
of  the  weapon  into  his  back,  and  thus  we  marched 
him  into  the  office,  where  we  speedily  tied  him  up 
in  a  chair.  The  situation  reminded  me  irresistibly 
of  that  in  the  log  house  in  the  ravine,  but  with  the 
parts  reversed. 

"Now,  Pete,  whom  will  you  write  to  for  ran- 
som money?"  I  asked. 

He  scowled,  and  said  nothing.  I  turned  to 
Woodworth. 

"  He  sought  Douglass,  and  found  us,"  I  said. 
"  This  is  the  night  of  our  lives.  We've  filled  our 
hand  beautifully,  and  the  game  is  as  good  as 
over.  Fetch  Mr.  Fenton,  but  don't  breathe  a 
word  of  this  to  another  soul." 

Away  he  went,  and  was  back  in  no  time,  bring- 
ing that  gentleman.  When  I  informed  him  of  the 
nature  of  our  catch,  he  strode  up  to  the  prisoner 
and  scrutinised  him  with  unconcealed  satisfaction. 
Neither  he  nor  Charlie  realised,  however,  the  full 
value  of  our  haul. 

"  Lock  all  the  doors  and  let  me  do  the  talking," 
I  said.  "  Now,  Peter,  we're  very  glad  to  lay 
hands  on  you,  as  you  no  doubt  can  guess.  But 
it's  not  so  much  on  account  of  the  kidnapping — 
that's  a  minor  matter — as  on  another  account.  The 
whole  town  of  Forge  is  aching  to  take  you  and 
swing  you  from  an  electric-light  pole,  because  it 


272      THE   PRINCESS   OF  FORGE 

wants  the  murderer  of  Joe  Lowden — you  about 
fill  the  bill." 

"  I  didn't  kill  him,"  he  growled. 

But  I  saw  that  he  paled  a  trifle  under  his  coat 
of  tan. 

"Don't  lie,"  I  said  sternly,  proceeding  to  lie 
myself.  "Douglass  has  told  it  all;  how  the  two 
of  you  lured  him  down  the  gully,  talked  with  him, 
and  how  you  stabbed  him  with  the  knife  Douglass 
had  taken  from  my  room." 

"He  says  that?"  he  cried  fiercely. 

"  He  does — and  he  further  says  that  he  hopes 
you  swing." 

"Damn  him!" 

"  You  see,  he's  not  clean  of  the  scrape  himself, 
but  the  town  will  let  him  off  if  they  can  but  get 
you,  Pete,  and  it  looks  now  as  if  they're  going  to 
get  you,  all  right." 

"He  killed  him." 

I  turned  to  the  others:  "You  hear?" 

"Yes,  by  God,  he  killed  him!"  Gurley  re- 
peated. 

"Very  well,  Pete  Gurley,  if  you  want  to  save 
your  life,  tell  us  everything.  To-morrow  you'll 
stand  face  to  face  before  the  people  of  Forge. 
Which  shall  it  be,  you  or  Douglass  ?  You'll  want 
backers." 

He  grew  paler  as  the  imminence  of  his  danger 


A  SECOND   SORTIE  273 

struck  more  clearly  into  his  mind.  In  ten  min- 
utes, we  had  the  whole  brutal  story  and  the  cause 
for  the  murder,  and,  in  addition,  the  plot  to  kid- 
nap Ethys  and  myself,  which  we  knew  with  fair 
completeness.  Douglass — Douglass,  the  name  ran 
through  it  all.  Douglass  had  planned  everything. 
Douglass  had  hired  the  bandits,  Douglass  had 
killed  Joe  because  he  knew  too  much,  Douglass' 
hand  and  Douglass'  brain  was  in  it  all. 

"  Here  I  stay  to-night,"  Woodworth  said. 

"No,  Charlie,  you  might  as  well  run  along  to 
bed,"  I  replied.  "  For  I  intend  to  take  no  chances 
with  this  fellow;  and,  while  you'd  doubtless  keep 
him  safely,  yet  I  have  too  much  at  stake  not  to 
keep  guard  myself.  Douglass  and  D'Urville  shall 
play  no  tricks  on  Pete." 

"  I'll  stay  too,  then,"  he  said. 

From  that  determination  there  was  no  shak- 
ing him.  He  went  out  with  Mr.  Fenton,  but  re- 
turned fifteen  minutes  later  with  a  supply  of  lunch, 
liquor,  tobacco,  books,  rope,  matches,  ammunition, 
and  water.  Charlie  always  went  at  a  picnic  as 
if  he  were  provisioning  the  ark. 

I  stood  up  before  Gurley,  and  looked  at  him. 

;<  You  did  well  not  to  lie,"  I  said  gravely. 

A  lie  has  its  uses  and  abuses,  as  my  previous 
speech  to  him  illustrates. 


CHAPTER  XX 

BEFORE  THE  TRIBUNAL 

BOTH  love  and  hate,  and  the  vain  confidence  the 
man  had  in  himself,  kept  Douglass  at  Forge 
Hiouse  when  he  had  long  passed  the  line  of  safety. 
He  completely  failed  to  realise  the  peril  hanging 
above  his  head,  although  his  confederate,  D'Ur- 
ville,  with  -a  less  interested  view  and  a  cooler 
mind,  saw  it,  or  at  least  sensed  it.  But  Douglass 
was  not  Douglass,  if  directed  by  another's  brain. 
Confidence  he  had  in  his  own  powers,,  to  the 
stretch  of  folly,  and  of  his  plans  he  was  no  less 
sanguine.  Yet,  if  the  sustaining  reason  had  been 
only  faith  in  his  prowess  and  schemes,  he  would 
have  fled  that  night,  between  the  Frenchman's 
persuasions  and  his  own  desire  to  make  safe  off 
with  the  gold.  But  love  of  Ethys  Fenton  and 
hate  of  me  were  passions  that  neither  gold  nor 
D'Urville's  reasoning  could  overcome.  There 
could  be  no  question  of  his  loving  the  princess, 
though  that  it  was  only  a  transient  sensation,  and 
that  her  wealth  and  station  enriched  the  prize  in 
his  eyes,  it  is  not  too  much  to  believe,  for  one  who 

274 


BEFORE   THE   TRIBUNAL        275 

knew  the  man.  Still,  he  passionately  loved  her 
at  the  moment  with  a  love  which  her  rebuffs  but 
fed.  Add  to  this  his  hate  of  me,  strongest  of  all  to 
keep  him  in  Forge.  Had  I  not  superseded  him 
in  the  position  of  manager,  which  he  coveted? 
Had  I  not  gained  where  he  should  have  profited? 
And  had  I  not  knocked  him  down  before  Ethys' 
very  eyes?  Hate  me — he  hated  me  with  the  very 
soul  of  hate!  Desire  for  revenge  kept  him  under 
the  same  roof  with  me  when  he  should  have  been 
fleeing.  If  everything  had  worked  out  as  he  an- 
ticipated, it  would  have  been  full  compensation  for 
the  defeats  he  had  suffered. 

But  the  unknown  future,  the  future  so  full  of 
strange  tricks,  has  foiled  in  their  purpose  more 
men  than  the  Scotchman.  And,  as  far  as  Doug- 
lass was  concerned,  I  had  the  unknown  future 
tied  to  a  chair,  and  locked  up  in  the  office. 

It  was  about  the  middle  of  the  morning.  I 
stood  looking  out  of  one  of  the  library  windows 
at  the  crowd  assembled  before  the  house,  the  jury 
which  was  to  pass  upon  my  case.  I  did  not  hear 
Douglass  enter  the  room,  but  presently  he  spoke 
behind  me. 

"The  hourglass  has  but  little  sand  yet  to  run 
for  you,"  he  said. 

Feeling  none  too  comfortable  with  him  at  my 
back,  I  swung  about. 


276      THE    PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

"  By  that  poetical  figure  I  suppose  you  hint  that 
I'm  about  done  living?"  I  replied. 

"  I  venture  to  say  there  is  an  analogy  in  the 
two  ideas." 

"Well,  if  you  follow  it  out,  Douglass,  you'll 
have  matter  for  an  ode  when  the  day  is  over. 
That  is,  of  course,  if  your  present  vein  holds." 

"  It  will  hold." 

"  You've  changed  very  quickly  before  this." 

"  Yes,  even  now  I've  changed  my  mind — in  the 
last  five  minutes,"  he  said.  "  I  even  break  my 
word  to  myself,  man,  to  speak  again  on  the  sub- 
ject we  discussed  once  before.  Look  out  there, 
and  consider."  He  pointed  toward  the  people. 
"  I  can  save  your  head  if  you  but  consent  to  leave 
Forge.  It's  a  light  condition  I  lay  on  you,  in  ex- 
change for  your  life.  Promise  but  to  go,  and  I 
testify  for  you.  I  do  not  love  you,  no,  but  I'm 
moved  to  compassion  at  your  fate." 

"  Douglass,  you  have  no  compassion  of  any 
sort,"  I  responded. 

"You  will  not  go?" 

"  I've  always  disliked  moving  under  compul- 


sion." 


'  Think  over  it  well." 

"  I'm  staying  because  I  really  want  to  hear  the 
speeches,"  I  said  lightly.  "Besides,  I've  one  of 
my  own  to  deliver,  and  a  neat  one,  too.  Chances 


BEFORE   THE   TRIBUNAL        277 

to  make  orations  come  few  and  far  between  in  an 
engineer's  life.  I  shall  not  miss  this  opportunity 
for  eloquence  if  it  costs  me  my  life." 

He  stared  at  me  as  if  I  were  mentally  un- 
balanced. 

"A  speech!  My  heavens,  he  talks  about 
speeches  at  a  time  like  this  I  You  shall  hear  one 
from  my  mouth,  Maitland,  that  will  make  you 
regret  this  triviality,  for  it  will  be  the  last  you'll 
ever  hear."  So  saying,  he  turned  on  his  heel  and 
left  the  room. 

"  I  wouldn't  miss  it  for  the  world,"  I  sent  after 
him. 

Though  ten  o'clock  was  the  time  set  for  com- 
mencing my  trial,  it  could  well  have  begun  earlier. 
Forge  had  made  up  its  mind  that  no  delay  should 
be  charged  to  its  account,  and  very  plainly  showed 
its  decision.  By  nine  the  first  contingent  of  towns- 
people had  arrived  on  the  knoll,  while  behind 
this  appeared  the  remainder  of  the  miners  and 
their  families  as  if  they  had  but  awaited  a  sig- 
nal. By  half  an  hour  later  the  final  person 
ascended  the  slope.  This  was  Inez,  the  Mexi- 
can girl,  her  yellow  handkerchief  about  her  throat, 
her  long  black  braid  shining  in  the  sun.  She  had 
not  come  with  her  father,  Pedro,  but  chose  thus 
to  come,  alone. 

Pelan   was  now,   as   formerly,   the   counsellor, 


278      THE    PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

guide,  and  master.  He  moved  hither  and  thither 
in  the  throng,  exercising  his  gift  of  leadership  to 
bring  order  out  of  chaos;  restrained  the  impa- 
tient, assured  the  doubtful,  and  satisfied  the  curi- 
ous. Of  all  the  men  of  Forge,  he  alone  was  busy, 
and,  without  him,  the  assemblage  would  have  been 
twice  over  its  old  untamed  mob. 

Some  little  time  before  the  stroke  of  ten,  he 
succeeded  in  placing  the  people  in  a  semicircle  be- 
fore the  portal  of  Forge  House,  with  the  ends 
of  the  line  lapping  under  the  portico  and  touch- 
ing the  walls  of  the  building.  A  complete  space 
was  thus  left  in  the  centre  for  the  conduct  of 
affairs. 

In  the  front  ranks  were  the  men,  rough  and 
unprepossessing  in  their  slouch  hats,  unbuttoned 
vests,  and  miner's  lace  boots;  but  the  scene  had 
an  appearance  brighter  than  its  purpose,  for  many 
of  the  women  had  decked  themselves  and  their 
broods  in  what  poor  finery  they  could  boast,  as  if 
for  a  holiday — a  Roman  holiday. 

Despite  these  colours,  however,  there  were 
signs  of  'the  grave  nature  of  the  morning's  busi- 
ness. The  men  while  less  excited,  were  more 
determined  than  upon  their  previous  gathering; 
most  of  them  openly  wore  weapons  at  their  belts; 
and  the  guards  about  the  premises  were  not  only 
maintained,  but  multiplied,  and  drawn  closer. 


BEFORE   THE   TRIBUNAL        279 

That  Kelly's  murder  remained  a  mystery  made 
them  the  more  desperately  resolved  to  avenge 
Lowden's.  Not  a  brain  but  smouldered,  not  a 
breast  but  burned,  in  all  the  number,  against  the 
time  when  the  vengeance  should  be  taken. 

Woodworth's  absence  from  the  midst  of  our 
party  had  evoked  a  cloud  of  questions,  even  Doug- 
lass deigning  to  notice  it.  But  Mr.  Fenton  and 
I  made  plausible  explanations.  When  five  min- 
utes of  the  time  still  remained  before  the  hour 
set,  I  tapped  on  the  inner  office  door,  to  make 
certain  that  all  was  well  within. 

Charlie  thrust  out  his  head  at  my  signal. 

"How  is  he?"  I  asked. 

"  Scared  clean  down  into  his  boots,"  he  an- 
swered, with  a  grin.  "And  every  minute  I'm  in- 
venting new  tortures  that  the  crowd  will  give  him 
if  he  doesn't  tell  the  truth.  Yep,  I'll  have  him 
well  prepared." 

"  Keep  the  curtains  down  and  see  that  this  door 
is  locked." 

"Never  fear." 

"We'll  win,"  said  I. 

"  Of  course.  He  can  scarcely  chew  tobacco, 
he's  so  anxious  to  tell  his  story." 

He  drew  his  head  in  again,  and  the  lock  clicked 
in  the  door. 

Two  minutes  later  we  all  came  together  in  the 


280      THE    PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

hall.  Even  Mrs.  Arlington,  who  had  wildly  de- 
clared that  she  would  not  leave  her  room  during 
proceedings,  was  there,  agitated,  prey  to  a  thou- 
sand fears,  which  she  fought  with  a  bottle  of  eau 
de  cologne. 

"Oh,  if  to-day  were  but  over!"  she  exclaimed 
tremulously. 

Douglass  smiled  upon  her. 

"It  will  pass,  Mrs.  Arlington." 

"  I  cannot  bear  to  think  of  any  one  dying,"  she 
said,  touching  a  filmy  lace  handkerchief  to  her 
eyes. 

"  Ah,  we're  all  but  mortal." 

"  I  feel  as  if  I  were  at  my  own  funeral." 

"  It  may  be  dear  Maitland's,"  he  answered,  and 
smiled  under  his  hand. 

Ethys  Fenton  showed  sterner  stuff  than  Mrs. 
Arlington.  Her  colour  was  a  little  higher  than 
usual,  her  eyes,  which  rested  on  mine  with  an 
enigmatical  look(,  were  brighter,  but  she  was  com- 
posed. 

Sharp  on  the  hour  of  ten,  the  remaining  Japa- 
nese servant  opened  wide  the  great  doors.  Mr. 
Fenton  and  I  passed  out;  Douglass  slowly  fol- 
lowed us,  and  seated  himself  on  one  side  of  the 
broad  steps;  while  Mr.  Arlington  stayed  with  the 
ladies  and  looked  on  from  the  hall.  A  hush 
greeted  our  appearance,  a  breathless  focussing  upon 


BEFORE   THE   TRIBUNAL        281 

us  of  eyes.  I  leaned  against  the  wall,  folded  my 
arms,  and  waited.  After  a  deliberate  survey  of 
the  crowd,  Mr.  Fenton  waved  his  hand,  indicat- 
ing that  he  would  speak. 

"  Here  is  Mr.  Maitland,  the  prisoner.  I  have 
but  one  thing  to  say.  Consider  well  what  you  do 
to-day,  lest  your  hands  be  stained  by  innocent 
blood." 

He  turned  about,  and  seated  himself  in  the 
chair  which  the  servant  had  placed  on  the  top 
step.  If  any  one  had  ever  doubted  the  force  of 
Mr.  Fenton's  character,  he  would  now  have  re- 
linquished such  doubts.  He  sat  like  a  judge,  his 
clean-cut  brow,  his  keen  eyes,  his  stubborn,  strong 
jaw  the  outward  evidences  of  his  powerful  will, 
and  a  grave  dignity  clothed  him  not  unlike  that, 
I  imagined,  which  robed  the  ancient  tribunes.  This 
and  his  words  made  a  visible  impression  upon  the 
villagers. 

To  my  satisfaction,  I  discovered  Garrett,  erst- 
while lacking,  now  present  to  do  service  as  a  wit- 
ness against  me.  Let  Douglass  play  out  all  his 
burlesque.  The  man's  face,  however,  was  trou- 
bled, and  from  time  to  time  he  unconsciously 
brushed  his  cheek  with  his  wounded  hand  swathed 
in  a  dirty  rag.  All  of  the  actors  to  the  play  were 
there,  save  D'Urville,  whose  part  was  not  a 
speaking  one;  nowhere  among  the  heads  could  I 


282      THE    PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

see  his,  nowhere  see  his  calm  and  beneficent  coun- 
tenance. 

"  Let  us  begin,  Pelan.  I  see  you  have  your  ac- 
cuser with  you  to-day,"  I  stated. 

Pelan  nodded,  then  pushed  Garrett  into  the 
open. 

"Speak,"  he  ordered. 

The  fellow  looked  about  him  abashed  and 
shamefaced,  dazed  by  the  prominence  so  suddenly 
thrust  upon  him,  but  recovered  himself  sufficiently 
to  mumble  the  lesson  a  smoother  tongue  had 
taught  him.  All  in  a  breath,  he  rehearsed  the 
various  accusations  made  by  Pelan  on  the  former 
occasion,  and  came  to  the  end  with  a  jump.  There 
was  no  new  matter  in  his  tale.  I  glanced  at  Doug- 
lass. Though  outwardly  he  was  composed,  idly 
swinging  one  foot  over  the  corner  of  the  coping 
on  which  he  sat,  I  could  easily  imagine  his  chagrin 
that  Forge  furnished  such  poor  material  for  his 
handiwork. 

"Did  you  see  Maitland  kill  the  boy?"  Mr. 
Fenton  interrogated. 

"No,  but  I " 

"  Did  you  see  them  together  after  they  left  the 
placer?" 

"Well,  no." 

Under  different  circumstances,  Garrett  might 
have  lied,  according  to  his  instructions;  here  the 


BEFORE   THE   TRIBUNAL        283 

battery  of  eyes  was  too  overpowering.  All  the 
company  gazed  at  him;  wherever  he  turned  were 
only  eyes;  and  above  him  on  the  step  were  the 
worst  eyes  of  all,  a  cold,  grey,  calculating  pair, 
that  bored  him  through. 

Pelan  suddenly  advanced  to  the  fellow. 

"You  told  me  you  saw  them  talking  in  the 
gully?" 

It  was  a  question  he  asked,  but  it  was  more 
than  a  question — a  straight,  level  accusation.  The 
storekeeper's  face  was  stern,  and  before  it  my  ac- 
cuser— poor,  arrant  coward! — shrank  and  licked 
his  lips,  for  he  was  caught  in  the  net  of  his  own 
perjury.  His  look  roved  about  until  it  reached 
Douglass.  He  pointed  at  the  Scotchman,  as  is 
the  way  of  his  kind,  escaping  responsibility  by 
shifting  it. 

"  He  saw  'em,  and  told  me." 

"  I  told  you  ?  "  asked  Douglass  contemptuously. 

The  latter,  though  he  implied  a  further  doubt 
of  the  truth  of  Garrett's  statement,  was  not  one 
to  shirk  a  burden  when  it  must  be  carried.  He 
had  remained  impassive  until  this  moment.  Now, 
as  his  unworthy  instrument  slunk  back  into  the 
crowd,  and  he  beheld  the  gaze  of  the  assembly 
transferred  to  him,  he  ceased  to  swing  his  foot, 
rose  from  his  seat  slowly,  thoughtfully,  with  a 
fine  affectation  of  reluctance,  to  mend  what  the 


284      THE    PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

bungler  had  broken.  Removing  his  hat,  he  lifted 
his  hand,  to  still  a  few  buzzing  whispers.  It  was 
a  graceful  pose,  and^  as  he  stood  on  the  lowest 
step,  asking  their  attention,  his  was  a  handsome 
figure. 

"  I  have  until  now  kept  silent,  my  friends, 
against  your  interests  and  my  own  will,"  he 
opened,  in  the  most  approved  fashion  of  oratory. 
"  I  have  done  this  because  of  the  love  I  bear  my 
comrade  and  superior  officer,  Mr.  Maitland;  be- 
cause, too,  of  the  loyalty  which  I  have  for  the 
company.  I  could  not  speak.  You,  good  people 
of  Forge,  had  you  been  so  situated,  could  and 
would  have  done  no  less.  As  friends,  we  two 
have  lived  together  beneath  the  same  roof;  as 
engineers,  we  have  laboured  together,  and  when 
rumours  flew  thick  that  he,  my  friend,  was  steal- 
ing the  company's  gold,  I  credited  them  not." 

A  low  mutter  broke  from  the  crowd.  By  cun- 
ningly denying  my  guilt,  he  persuaded  them  to 
firm  belief  in  it. 

"Justice,  however,  demands  a  duty  of  every 
man,"  he  continued.  "  Murder  of  an  innocent 
youth  has  been  committed,  men  of  Forge,  in  your 
very  dooryard.  Justice  calls  for  the  punishment, 
yes,  the  death,  of  the  man  whose  hand  struck  the 
foul  blow.  Friendship,  loyalty  to  my  employer, 
these  may  stand  a  while  in  the  path  of  justice,  but 


BEFORE   THE   TRIBUNAL        285 

in  the  end  must  yield.  Therefore,  I  put  them 
aside,  men,  though  it  wrenches  my  heart  to  do  it, 
that  I  may  serve  justice." 

He  paused,  faced  about,  and  looked  on  me,  with 
a  sorrowful  face.  A  single  gleam  of  malignant 
joy  shot  from  his  eyes,  intended  alone  for  me. 
Then  once  more  he  faced  them. 

"  Saturday  afternoon,  about  five  o'clock,  I 
stopped  at  the  door  of  the  last  house  on  the  street, 
the  house  of  Pedro,  to  get  a  drink  of  water;  and, 
looking  off  toward  the  mine,  I  saw  the  prisoner 
riding  toward  me.  He  had  just  left  the  placer. 
When  he  reached  the  gully,  he  stopped,  dis- 
mounted, talked  with  Joe  Lowden " 

"  One  minute,  please,"  I  said,  calmly  interrupt- 
ing him  in  the  middle  of  his  description.  "  Can 
one  distinguish  persons  a  mile  distant,  especially 
at  the  bottom  of  a  gully  ten  feet  deep?  " 

Douglass  gave  me  a  black  look. 

"Am  I  speaking  or  not?"  he  asked. 

"  You  are,  and  well,"  I  said.  "  Proceed — the 
thought  just  occurred  to  me."  And  I  waved 
him  on. 

He  flung  his  hand  out  toward  the  east,  in  an 
impassioned  gesture,  while  his  tone  grew  more 
rapid,  louder. 

"  I  beheld  them  there,  talking,  Maitland  and 
Joe  Lowden,  the  murderer  and  the  murdered,  and 


286      THE    PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

saw  them  go  into  the  underbrush.  One  man  re- 
turned— he  was  the  man  whom  I  had  served, 
honoured,  and  given  my  friendship  to.  Alone,  he 
mounted  his  horse  and  rode  hither,  with  guilty 
hands.  That  is  what  I  saw  from  Pedro's  house, 
and  what  I  have  long  kept  silent.  Where,  I  ask 
you,  was  Joe  Lowden?  Where,  good  mothers  of 
sons,  was  this  mother's  son?  Where  was  the  boy 
whom  Maitland  enticed  into  the  gully?  Go  there, 
and  ask  the  leaves  that  strewed  his  body.  Where 
is  Joe  Lowden  to-day?  There."  And  with  a 
slow,  sweeping  gesture  he  pointed  to  the  western 
mountainside. 

Every  eyeball  in  the  multitude  moved  with  his 
finger.  All  the  company  seemed  spellbound  by 
his  damning  recital.  The  hush  was  broken  by 
Mr.  Fenton. 

"Swear  to  it,"  he  ordered  drily. 

For  a  brief  instant,  Douglass  hung  at  an  oath. 
His  hand  went  up  to  a  point  of  his  moustache,  his 
eyelids  quivered.  Finally,  he  raised  his  hand 
above  his  head,  and  spoke  loudly  and  clearly : 

"  I  swear." 

Seating  himself  again  upon  the  coping,  he  idly 
swung  his  foot  to  and  fro. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

A  BELATED  WARNING 

THE  hush  with  which  the  crowd  of  villagers  had 
accepted  Douglass'  story  was  vastly  more  impres- 
sive, more  significant,  than  if  they  had  greeted  it 
with  a  shout. 

"What  have  you  to  answer,  Maitland?"  my 
employer  asked. 

I  descended  a  step  or  two,  until  I  stood  di- 
rectly before  the  circle  of  faces. 

"  People  of  Forge,  I'll  not  try  to  imitate  Doug- 
lass' oratory,"  I  began  quietly.  "  It's  the  truth  we 
want,  not  eloquence.  As  what  I  have  to  say  is 
considerable,  I'll  beg  you  to  be  patient  until  I've 
finished,  for  surely  I'm  entitled  to  so  much  favour, 
since  I'm  the  particular  man  whose  neck  is  con- 
cerned. There  will  be  some  matters  revealed  in 
the  course  of  my  story  which  you  don't  know,  and 
which  will  surprise  you,  and  which,  I  hope,  will 
remove  suspicion  from  my  person  to  the  scoundrel 
on  whom  it  should  fall.  At  present,  you're  pretty 
well  convinced  that  I  killed  Joe  Lowden,  so  I'll 
waste  no  time  now  denying  it,  but  go  ahead  with 

287 


288      THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

my  narrative.  However,  this  I  will  say:  Joe  Low- 
den  and  I  parted  as  friends,  and  since  he  died, 
shortly  afterward,  I'm  glad  that  it  was  so.  Now, 
for  my  defence." 

I  proceeded  to  relate,  in  a  clear,  matter-of-fact 
tone,  what  happened  after  my  quarrel  with  Low- 
den  at  the  placer.  I  traced  my  ride  home,  re- 
counted my  conversation  with  Pelan  in  the  gully 
between  the  mines  and  town,  how  I  had  seen  the 
Scotchman  dart  into  the  bushes,  and  how,  on  my 
arrival  in  the  village,  I  had  explained  the  con- 
dition of  affairs  to  Joe's  mother.  Speaking  with- 
out haste  and  without  excitement,  I  observed  my 
listeners'  faces,  and  perceived  the  tenseness  go  out 
of  them ;  they  remained  attentive,  but  calmer. 

Taking  a  step  nearer,  I  narrated  the  kidnap- 
ping adventure  of  Ethys  Fenton  and  myself.  This 
was  news  to  them.  The  last  of  their  anger  gave 
way  to  surprise.  When  I  disclosed  the  names  of 
the  kidnappers,  and  drew  Stork's  revolver  from 
my  pocket,  and  held  it  up,  that  they  might  see 
his  name  burned  on  the  butt,  I  had  their  ears  se- 
curely. When  I  described  the  murder  of  Merry 
Mac  upon  the  mountain  trail  by  the  hand  of 
D'Urville,  and  casually  mentioned,  what  was  only 
too  well  known,  that  he  and  Douglass  were  hand 
in  glove  with  each  other,  Pelan's  were  not  the 
only  pair  of  eyes  fixed  upon  the  Scot.  And  I  gave 


A   BELATED   WARNING          289 

the  dead  Stork's  statement  that  the  latter  had 
planned  it,  and  added,  with  a  smile,  that  Doug- 
lass had  opened  the  safe,  when  he  was  ignorant  of 
the  combination,  in  order  to  pay  the  outlaws  their 
tribute. 

"  I  have  all  the  house  as  witnesses  to  his  con- 
fessing that,"  I  said.  "And,  good  people  of 
Forge,  you  who  have  long  suspected  me  of  rob- 
bing my  employer's  safe,  may  now  make  a  better 
guess  as  to  whose  hand  dipped  into  the  gold." 

Douglass  lifted  his  head. 

"Am  I  the  one  on  trial?"  he  asked  of  them. 

"  Not  yet,"  I  replied. 

"  He  casts  aspersions  on  my  honour,  and  you 
listen,"  he  said  haughtily,  to  the  crowd.  "All  in 
good  time  I  shall  explain  the  opening  of  the  safe. 
But  the  murder  of  Joe  Lowden — what  has  this 
wild  tale  to  do  with  the  murder  of  Joe  Lowden !  " 

He  sank  back  upon  his  seat,  and  flashed  an 
evil  glance  at  me. 

I  had  waited  patiently  for  him  to  finish,  know- 
ing that  curiosity  would  conquer  my  listeners.  I 
judged  correctly;  voices  bade  me  go  on. 

"  Mr.  Douglass  has  asked  what  my  story  has 
to  do  with  the  murder,"  I  continued,  "  and  I  will 
tell  you.  Strange  as  it  may  seem  to  you  at  this 
instant,  yet  it's  a  fact  that  Joe  was  killed  because 
of  the  kidnapping,  and  nothing  else.  You  sup- 


29o      THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

posed  I  slew  him  for  revenge,  whereas  he  was 
stabbed  because  he  knew  too  much  of  this  gentle- 
man's plans.  Friday,  he  was  drinking  with  Long 
Pete  in  Pelan's  place,  where  Mr.  Arlington" — I 
pointed  to  the  man  I  named,  standing  in  the  door 
— "  overheard  Gurley  offer  him  a  thousand  dol- 
lars, and,  mark  you,  the  Mexican  girl  in  marriage, 
if  he  would  join  in  the  kidnapping.  Gurley  was 
Douglass'  lieutenant  in  the  plot  in  which  my  trai- 
torous assistant  hoped  to  get  rid  of  one  young 
lady,  and  win  another." 

A  ripple  of  laughter  ran  through  the  crowd.  In 
the  rear,  I  beheld  the  white  face  of  Inez,  gazing 
fixedly  at  the  Scotchman.  My  heart  smote  me  at 
her  look  of  stolid  pain,  but  what  was  said  was 
said. 

"  Stop !  "  Douglass  said,  springing  up.  "  Let 
my  private  affairs  be." 

"  Seeing  that  it  concerns  my  life  I  am  compelled 
to  take  liberties,"  I  answered  grimly.  Then, 
to  the  people :  "  Joe  Lowden  refused  Gurley's  of- 
fer, refused  to  have  anything  to  do  with  the  un- 
lawful seizure  of  Mr.  Fenton's  niece  and  myself, 
and  indignantly  threatened  to  inform  me  of  the 
plot.  Unfortunately  he  failed  to  give  me  the  no- 
tice  " 

"No,  he  gave  it,"  said  a  voice  behind  me. 

I  swung  round.     Ethys  Fenton  was  stepping 


A   BELATED  WARNING          291 

forth.  In  her  hand  was  a  piece  of  paper,  and 
though  her  face  was  a  little  pale  at  being  the 
cynosure  of  the  throng,  she  was,  nevertheless,  calm 
and  self-possessed. 

"Tell  them,"  said  her  uncle. 

One  look  she  cast  at  me,  a  proud,  happy  look; 
then  in  a  clear,  unaffected  voice,  told  of  the  belated 
warning. 

"When  Mr.  Maitland  and  I  were  captured 
by  the  spring,  one  of  the  men  examined  his  pock- 
ets. He  found  this  paper" — she  held  it  up — 
"but  it  was  then  in  an  envelope.  The  man  read 
Mr.  Maitland's  name  on  the  cover,  saw  who  we 
were,  and  put  it  back  into  Mr.  Maitland's  pocket. 
In  the  log  cabin,  Mr.  Gurley" — a  smile  ran 
round  the  circle  at  her  innocent  prefix — "  pro- 
duced the  envelope  again,  and  told  Mr.  Maitland 
to  write.  Mr.  Maitland  refused.  One  of  the 
other  men  struck  him  on  the  head.  So  I  took  the 
paper  and  said  I  would  write  the  message  asking 
for  the  gold.  When  I  opened  the  envelope,  I 
saw  some  of  the  writing.  I  read  it  all,  saw  its 
important  nature,  and  saved  it,  writing  the  men's 
request  on  the  envelope.  That  is  all  I  have  to 
tell." 

"Who  knows  Joe  Lowden's  writing?"  our 
judge  inquired. 

"  I,"  Pelan  declared,  stepping  forward. 


292      THE    PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

Ethys  handed  him  the  sheet;  he  scanned  it 
slowly,  and  with  expressionless  face.  Finally,  he 
said: 

"It  is  Joe's." 

"  Mr.  Woodworth  found  it  here  on  the  steps 
Saturday  morning,"  I  said,  "where  Joe  prob- 
ably left  it  before  going  to  work.  I  put  it  in  my 
pocket,  without  reading  it." 

"  Read  it,  Pelan,"  Mr.  Fenton  commanded. 

The  storekeeper  raised  his  hand  to  still  the 
whisperings  and  talk  that  had  broken  out  among 
the  expectant  people.  I  harked,  eager  as  the  rest. 

Pelan  read: 

"MISTER  MAITLAJTD:  Douglass  and  Pete  Gurley  are  going 
to  steal  you  and  the  girl  when  you  go  riding  Sunday.  They 
are  trying  to  mix  me  in,  but  I  won't.  Look  out,  and  wear  a, 
gun.  Respectfully, 

"JoE  LOWDEN." 

I  looked  up  at  Ethys.  Her  eyes  were  shining. 
This  was  her  enigma,  her  precious  secret;  this 
was  what  she  meant  when  she  said  she  would  da 
more  for  me  when  the  time  came  than  I  could 
guess.  What  a  fool  I  had  been !  I  had  carried 
the  boy's  warning  in  my  pocket,  let  it  remain  un- 
opened, neglected.  I  could  have  cursed  my  stu- 
pidity. 

Douglass   sat   slowly   fingering  his   moustache. 


A   BELATED   WARNING          293 

Once  he  glanced  up  at  the  girl's  slender  figure, 
then  dropped  his  lids  over  his  eyes.  When  Pelan 
had  finished,  and  Ethys  had  retired,  he  rose. 

"This  is  a  remarkably  skilful  forgery,"  he  re- 
marked, with  pretended  admiration.  "  By  the 
keys  of  Saint  Peter,  it's  perfect."  And  he  smiled 
pleasantly.  "  The  circumstances,  however,  must 
be  taken  into  consideration." 

"State  the  circumstances,"  came  from  the 
chair. 

"Why,  my  good  people  of  Forge" — his  smile 
grew  broader — "  I  have  only  to  tell  you  that  our 
prisoner  here  is  this  lady's  lover,  in  order  that 
you  may  understand.  In  such  a  case  the  lady  will 
go  to  any  extreme  to  save  the  man's  head,  and 
quite  properly,  too.  But  the  letter  is  worthless,  a 
forgery,  a  charming  fabrication." 

Down  he  sat  again,  much  pleased  with  himself. 

"Is  this  the  truth?"  Pelan  asked. 

"  It's  not  a  forgery,"  I  answered,  frowning. 

"Do  you  love  her?" 

I  compressed  my  lips.  "  That's  beside  the  mat- 
ter. You  recognised  Joe's  handwriting." 

"Do  you  love  her?"  he  insisted,  unmoved. 

My  cheeks  grew  hot. 

"  Speak  up,  man,"  Douglass  laughed. 

I  should  have  loved  to  have  had  him  in  my 
hands  that  minute.  I  was  just  as  furious  at  my- 


294      THE    PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

self,  for  I  had  brought  it  on  my  own  head.  When 
Douglass  had  ordered  me  to  let  his  private  af- 
fairs be,  I  had  smirked,  and  asseverated  that  it 
concerned  my  life;  this  equally  concerned  it,  and 
I  could  not  in  reason  refuse  to  answer. 

"Well,  what  if  I  do?"  I  said.  "It  doesn't 
make  the  paper  a  forgery.  Douglass  is  lying,  as 
usual.  It's  his  habit — that,  and  murder." 

Pelan  faced  Ethys,  who  stood  silent  by  her 
uncle's  elbow. 

"  Do  you  love  him,  as  has  been  said?  "  he  ques- 
tioned. 

"The  paper  is  no  forgery,  sir." 

"Do  you  love  Mr.  Maitland?" 

A  rich  wave  of  colour  spread  over  her  face  and 
throat,  dyeing  her  cheeks  a  beautiful  rose.  Her 
bosom  fluttered  uncertainly,  and  her  eyes  barely 
touched  mine,  like  a  scared  bird,  and  were  away 
again. 

"  I  shall  not  answer,"  she  said,  shutting  her 
lips. 

Douglass  was  still  smiling  his  cynical  smile. 
He  lazily  lifted  one  finger  toward  her,  with  a 
languid,  scornful  movement. 

"  Let  her  face  be  her  answer.  It  speaks  truer 
than  her  lips,"  he  announced. 

I  leaned  back  against  the  wall  with  folded 
arms  and  closed  eyes.  His  last  insult  against  her 


A   BELATED   WARNING          295 

had  stirred  too  great  a  rage  in  my  breast  to  do 
otherwise,  and  I  was  powerless  to  resent  it.  I 
could  have  slain  him  with  my  heel,  slain  him  with- 
out the  quickening  of  a  heartbeat,  as  one  crushes 
the  head  of  a  viper.  To  say  her  tongue  was  a 
lying  one,  to  say  it  before  us  all,  before  her  uncle, 
and  to  her  face !  My  breath  came  with  difficulty. 
But  one  thing  I  felt;  he  was  being  crowded  hard, 
and  had  been  pushed  to  where  he  now  faltered 
at  nothing,  and  would  dare  anything. 

I  straightened  up,  to  finish  my  defence. 

"  You've  heard  the  contents  of  the  letter,"  I 
began,  with  feeling.  "  Pelan  testifies  to  its  au- 
thenticity. In  it,  you  find  the  cause  of  the  young 
fellow's  death.  He  knew  Douglass'  secret,  and 
it  proved  dangerous  knowledge.  The  note  names 
the  two  men  who  last  saw  Joe,  and  who  struck 
him  down.  But  his  murder  does  not  end  the  list 
of  deaths.  There  is  yet  another.  And  he,  too, 
was  stabbed  for  knowing  too  much  about  Doug- 
lass' business.  You  have  wondered  who  the  as- 
sassin of  the  Irishman  could  be.  Kelly  was  killed 
because  he  saw  Joe  Lowden  murdered." 

A  sort  of  gasp  rose  from  the  crowd  at  this 
new  revelation. 

"  Douglass  killed  the  boy,  and  D'Urville  the 
man,"  I  went  on.  "  Kelly  would  have  stood  up 
here  this  morning  and  told  you  his  story,  as  he 


296      THE   PRINCESS   OF  FORGE 

told  it  to  me  the  day  before  yesterday,  had  not 
the  Frenchman  chanced  to  overhear  us.  So  Kelly 
had  to  *  blink '  along  with  Joe."  And  I  used  the 
word  which  Douglass  had  used,  with  a  good  deal 
of  relish. 

"You  accuse  D'Urville  of  stabbing  Kelly?" 
Pelan  asked,  surprised  for  once  out  of  his  reserve. 

"Ay,  as  he  killed  Mac." 

"Ah!"  said  he. 

"  Of  course,  Douglass  would  have  seen  me  kill 
Kelly,  also,  if  he  had  been  able,"  I  remarked, 
"  but,  unfortunately,  your  guards  were  about,  and 
so  that  story  would  not  do." 

Douglass  strode  out  into  the  middle  of  the 
space. 

"  What  nonsense  I "  he  cried.  "  Men  of  Forge,, 
you  have  come  here  to  condemn  this  man.  He  is 
already  condemned  by  the  evidence,  and  he  is  seek- 
ing to  throw  dust  in  your  eyes.  Will  you  listen 
to  his  women's  tales?  There  is  his  own  knife,  wet 
with  the  blood  from  Lowden's  breast,  that  damns 
him.  I  swear  again,  as  I  swore  before,  that  I  saw 
him  lead  the  boy  into  the  gully  to  kill  him !  What 
more  do  you  ask?  His  hands  are  red,  his  soul  is 
black,  and  the  rope  awaits !  Up,  men,  and  act !  " 

His  voice  rang  like  a  trumpet  under  the  portico 
roof,  and  his  eyes  flashed.  But  no  foot  stirred,  no 
horde  of  angry,  inflamed  miners  flung  themselves 


A   BELATED   WARNING          297 

upon  me,  no  shout  answered  his  appeal.  For  a 
full  minute  he  stood  as  he  was,  with  head  flung 
back  and  his  hands  clinched,  a  live  statue.  Then, 
slowly,  the  fist  he  had  held  above  his  head  came 
down,  and  a  sneer  transformed  his  face. 

"God,  what  fools  this  earth  suckles,"  he  said, 
at  length,  scathingly. 

"Are  you  done?"  Mr.  Fenton  asked,  with  the 
same  calmness  he  had  manifested  throughout  the 
whole  morning. 

"Yes,  I  must  be  getting  on  with  my  talk,"  I 
put  in.  "They're  all  impatient  to  learn  what 
Kelly  saw." 

He  swung  about,  with  a  bitter  smile. 

"Yet  you  shall  die." 

"  That  rests  with  God,"  said  I. 

Concisely  and  without  further  interruption,  I 
related  Kelly's  story  of  his  fishing,  of  his  discov- 
ery of  the  three  men  in  the  gully  near  by,  of 
Douglass'  threats,  of  the  boy's  screams,  death  and 
the  concealment  of  the  body,  and  then,  finally,  of 
Kelly's  subsequent  horror  and  drunken  sleep.  Lit- 
tle by  little,  I  saw  the  minds  of  my  hearers  in- 
clining to  my  words,  little  by  little  suspicion  slip- 
ping from  me  to  the  Scotchman,  and  conviction 
growing  on  their  faces.  Some  had  missed  Kelly 
that  Sunday  and  Monday,  some  remembered  hav- 
ing heard  his  denial  of  my  guilt  as  he  listened  on 


298      THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

the  edge  of  the  crowd,  some  even  had  heard  him 
declare  that  he  had  seen  Satan,  hoof  and  horn 
and  tail.  And  all  counted  in  my  favour,  little  by 
little.  At  last,  I  was  done. 

"Answer,  Douglass,"  our  judge  said. 

"What!  Answer  tales  from  the  grave?"  the 
man  laughed. 

"Answer." 

"  Witnesses,  witnesses  in  a  cloud  he  has,"  Doug- 
lass mocked,  "but,  alas,  all  in  the  spirit  only. 
Mac  would  be  a  witness — but  he  is  dead!  Stork 
would  be  a  witness — but  he  is  dead!  Kelly 
would  be  a  witness — but  he  is  dead!  Lowden 
himself  would  be  a  witness — but,  alas  and  alack, 
he,  too,  is  dead!  Dead,  dead,  all  are  dead! 
Heaven  defend  me  against  the  dead!  For  the 
flesh  cannot  answer  the  spirit,  and,  therefore,  my 
lips  are  dumb !  "  He  flashed  a  triumphant  look 
about  the  ring,  and  up  at  me.  "  Bring  me  a  wit- 
ness with  meat  on  his  bones." 

Back  he  stalked  to  the  parapet  of  the  steps,  and 
sat  down. 

It  was  the  moment  I  had  been  waiting  for.  My 
hour  had  come. 

"  I  shall  bring  you  such  a  witness,"  I  said. 

Striding  to  the  office  door,  I  struck  it  loudly. 
Then,  turning  about,  I  crossed  the  intervening 
space,  mounted  the  steps,  and  took  my  stand  be- 


A   BELATED  WARNING          299 

tween  Douglass  and  the  hall.  A  slight  pause  fol- 
lowed, all  eyes  moving  from  me  to  the  office  front, 
and  from  its  front  rolling  back  to  me.  Suddenly, 
the  door  swung  open,  and  Long  Pete  Gurley,  his 
wrists  bound  before  him,  his  sunburned  face  hag- 
gard, put  foot  out  upon  the  uppermost  step. 

Here  was  a  witness  with  plenty  of  meat  on  his 
bones. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

PRESSED  HOME! 

GURLEY  stood  blinking  at  the  crowd.  A  greater 
silence  than  had  yet  reigned  under  the  portico 
greeted  his  appearance,  and  very  mingled  feelings 
were  evident  upon  the  people's  faces  as  the  re- 
sult of  the  presence  of  the  man  whom  they  imag- 
ined miles  away  from  Forge.  The  Scotchman 
came  to  his  feet,  as  if  he  had  been  under  hyp- 
notic influence,  and  stood  like  a  man  of  marble. 
Too  late,  he  knew  that  he  had  put  his  own  head 
into  the  noose. 

Long  Pete  stared  around  the  ring  of  villagers, 
cowed  and  fearful. 

"  I  didn't  kill  him,  I  didn't  kill  Joe,"  he  said 
huskily. 

"Who  did?" 

It  was  Mr.  Fenton  who  asked  the  question,  in 
quick,  decisive  tones.  Gurley  lifted  his  bound 
hands,  and  pointed  them  at  Douglass. 

"Him.  Because  I  wouldn't  do  it,  when  he 
wanted  me  to,  he  cut  Joe's  throat." 

"Who  will  believe  Pete  Gurley?"  Douglass 
cried  scornfully.  But  I  observed  that  he  licked 

300 


PRESSED   HOME!  301 

his  lips,  and  that  his  look  roved  from  spot  to 
spot. 

"It's  God's  truth!" 

Those  three  words  spoken  by  Gurley,  spoken 
with  such  a  depth  of  earnestness,  with  so  strong  a 
gush  of  sincerity,  by  themselves  carried  conviction 
to  the  startled  people  of  Forge,  and  pressed  home 
the  charge  I  had  made  of  Douglass'  villainy. 

"  It's  God's  truth !  "  he  repeated. 

Saying  the  words  over,  as  if  he  had  forgotten 
all  others,  his  haggard  face  turned  this  way  and 
that  to  his  former  friends,  and  begged  up  and 
down  the  line.  Nothing  more  was  needed  to 
place  the  crime  where  it  belonged. 

"  It's  God's  truth,"  he  said,  for  a  last  time. 

Douglass  opened  his  mouth  to  speak,  but  Pelan 
checked  him  with  a  stern  hand. 

"Let  the  man  speak,  then  may  you." 

The  Scot  cast  a  swift  look  on  every  side,  but 
before  him  was  the  unbroken  line  of  miners;  he 
glanced  over  his  shoulder,  and  saw  me  between 
him  and  the  door,  with  Stork's  revolver  in  my 
hand.  Its  shiny  barrel  gave  him  momentary  dis- 
may; then,  disdainfully  shrugging  his  shoulders, 
he  leaned  against  the  coping  of  the  step,  and 
awaited  what  might  come. 

"  We've  had  more  than  a  little  of  lying  to-day, 
so  we  might  as  well  finish  it,"  he  said  boldly. 


302      THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

If  he  had  counted  on  boldness  and  reckless  words 
to  win  him  partisans  among  Forge,  he  immediately 
discovered  the  error  of  his  calculation.  A  harsh, 
angry  murmur  answered  his  speech,  wrathful 
looks  were  turned  on  him,  and  it  was  easy  to  see 
that  friendliness  was  the  last  thing  for  him  to 
seek  at  this  tribunal. 

Mr.  Fenton  addressed  Gurley: 

"  Put  an  end  to  this  suspense.  Tell  what  you 
know,  tell  all  you  know,  about  the  death  of  Joe 
Lowden ;  tell  the  truth,  and  nothing  but  the  truth, 
as  you  hope  for  mercy  for  your  crimes  at  the 
hands  of  these  people." 

Twice  the  outlaw  opened  his  mouth  to  speak, 
but  was  each  time  beaten  down  by  the  concen- 
trated gaze  of  the  multitude,  and  remained  in 
a  tremble,  with  his  long,  drooping  moustache 
twitching  on  his  lip.  At  length,  he  found  his 
tongue : 

"  I  ain't  always  treated  you  square,  men,  but 
what  I'm  tellin'  you  now  is  no  lie.  More  than 
a  week  ago,  Douglass  pulled  me  into  a  corner  an' 
told  me  how  I  could  make  money  handsome  an' 
easy.  It  was  to  stand  up  Mr.  Maitland  an'  the 
girl,  when  they  went  riding  down  the  river,  Sun- 
day. Old  Morgan's  empty  cabin  was  the  camp 
where  we  was  to  keep  'em  till  he  squeezed  the 
girl's  uncle — old  Goldlegs,  he  called  him — for  ten 


PRESSED   HOME!  303 

thousand  dollars.  Stork  an'  Mac  Drawer,  from 
over  at  Crown  City,  where  they  helped  dynamite 
the  White  Dog,  was  in  the  game,  an'  Douglass 
wanted  Joe  Lowden  in,  for  he  said  Joe  was 
troublin'  him  about  the  Mexican  girl,  an'  he 
wanted  to  get  Joe  where  he'd  have  him  helpless. 
But  Joe  said  he  wouldn't  do  any  man's  dirty  work, 
least  of  all  Douglass',  an'  that  he'd  squeal  to  Mr. 
Maitland.  That's  how  it  come. 

"  So,  on  Saturday  afternoon,  we  waited  for  Joe 
in  the  gully,  thinkin'  maybe  he'd  be  ready  to  join 
in  the  deal  now  that  he'd  been  knocked  down. 
Pretty  soon  Mr.  Maitland  came  along  where  we 
was  talkin',  an'  Douglass  hid  in  the  brush  till  he 
went  by.  Then  we  all  went  down  among  the 
trees,  an'  Douglass  says,  'Sit  in  the  game,  Joe,' 
but  Joe,  he  says,  'No,  I'm  no  killer,  an'  I'll  sure 
tell  the  manager.'  'After  he  fired  you?'  asks 
Douglass.  'Yes,'  Joe  says.  Then  Douglass  told 
me  to  catch  him,  and  I  grabbed  him  by  the 
elbows,  while  he  stood,  still  and  white.  Then 
Douglass  jerked  the  knife  that  he  stole  from  Mr. 
Maitland  an'  held  it  out  to  me,  sayin',  '  Snib  him, 
Pete,'  but  I  wouldn't  take  the  knife.  Joe  says, 
'  Pete,  are  you  goin'  to  hold  me  while  he  kills 
me  ? '  an'  I  thought  how  we'd  worked  together  in 
the  same  shift,  an'  I  knew  his  mother,  so  I  pushed 
him  away.  He  started  to  run,  but  Douglass 


304      THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

cursed  me,  and  run  after  him,  an'  jumped  on  his 
back,  and  dropped  him. 

"  Then  he  hid  him  under  the  leaves,  leavin'  the 
knife  in  him.  *  Maitland  knocked  him  down, 
Maitland's  knife  killed  him,  Maitland  is  his  mur- 
derer, is  it  so,  Pete  ? '  he  says.  Lookin'  in  his 
eyes,  I  saw  the  devil  in  'em,  and  more  murder, 
an'  I  answers :  *  It  is  so.'  *  Good !  You  need  a 
drink,  Pete,'  says  he ;  *  you're  white  as  a  bab-by.' 
We  went  up  the  road  to  Pelan's,  where  we  took 
our  liquor.  I'm  done." 

During  all  this  story,  Douglass  chafed  under 
the  restraint  of  silence. 

'*  You  all  know  the  man ;  know  he's  the  biggest 
reprobate  in  Forge,"  he  said  loudly,  at  the  end. 
"  This  is  infamous !  " 

"What  else  have  you  to  answer?"  Mr.  Fen- 
ton  asked. 

"That  I'll  sit  no  longer  under  lying  tongues. 
By  Heaven,  no !  " 

He  took  a  step  up  toward  the  hall,  his  grand 
manner  once  more  brought  forth. 

"That  won't  do,  Douglass,"  I  said.  "Take 
another  step  and  I  shoot." 

The  crowd  began  to  heave  and  stir.  Its  roar 
began  under  the  portico,  a  roar  of  anger  lest  he 
escape,  for  they  were  with  me  now,  man  on 
man,  all  round  the  packed  line.  They  caught 


PRESSED   HOME!  305 

up  my  word,  crying  it  fiercely  at  me:  "Shoot! 
Shoot!" 

Slowly  and  bitterly,  Douglass  retreated  to  the 
corner  of  the  step,  sitting  down  again  for  the 
tenth  time  this  morning  to  warm  the  coping;  but 
I  think  the  stone  was  no  colder  than  he,  this  sit- 
ting. His  face  was  set,  his  eyes  were  full  open 
and  round,  and  he  made  a  strange,  stilted  gesture 
that  he  yielded. 

"Describe  the  hold-up,  Gurley,"  the  judge  of 
the  impromptu  court  said. 

Pete  rubbed  his  draggled  moustache  with  his 
hands  and  proceeded: 

"Sunday  morning  Stork  an'  Mac  an'  me  goes 
down  the  canon,  where  in  the  evenin'  we  stands 
up  Mr.  Maitland  and  the  girl  at  Indian  Creek, 
and  runs  'em  off  to  Morgan's  camp.  Mac  went 
off  to  town  with  the  lady's  letter  to  get  the  gold 
which  Douglass  was  to  give  him  under  show  of 
bein'  forced.  After  a  while  I  grew  anxious,  an' 
went  over  the  hill  to  find  Douglass. 

"  He  was  to  pretend  to  save  'em,  takin'  the 
girl  home  to  marry,  but  leavin'  the  manager  to 
be  shot.  Stork  had  that  job,  Douglass  payin'  him 
five  hundred  cash.  I  wasn't  in  that  game,  by 
God,  I  wasn't!  It  was  between  him  and  Stork. 
When  I  went  away,  I  didn't  see  or  hear  anything, 
an'  when  I  come  back  about  ten  o'clock  I  found 


306      THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

Stork  lyin'  dead  on  the  floor.  Him  an'  Mac,  I 
figgered,  had  fought  over  the  gold,  with  Stork 
gettin'  the  short  end.  I  thought  Mr.  Maitland 
was  lyin'  dead  somewheres  in  the  bushes,  but  I 
didn't  hunt  none  to  see,  an'  I  took  to  cover  in  the 
hills,  thinkin'  maybe  to  run  on  Mac.  Last  night, 
when  I  was  starved  out,  I  came  in  to  find  Doug- 
lass an'  get  my  stake,  for  I  knew  he  savvied  Mac. 
I  couldn't  reckon  what  men  was  doin'  round  the 
house  here  watchin',  so  I  slipped  in  without  their 
knowin'.  Maitland  an'  a  young  feller  caught  me, 
tied  me  up  in  the  office  till  now.  That's  all  I 
know,  an'  it's  the  truth.  But  I  tell  you  again, 
boys,  I  didn't  kill  Joe.  I  wouldn't  kill  a  boy, 
just  a  boy!  Douglass  put  him  out." 

He  thrust  out  his  hands,  fettered  as  they  were, 
in  a  rude,  rough,  noble  sort  of  plea.  A  tool,  an 
outlaw,  a  ruffian  he  was,  but  hardly  a  murderer; 
he  did  not  fall  to  that  depth  of  infamy.  That 
was  left  for  Douglass.  And  on  the  latter  dwelt 
the  gaze  of  all  Forge,  a  gaze  of  horror  and 
rage. 

"  Let  him  hang !  "  one  miner  shouted,  shaking 
his  fist. 

Pelan  quieted  the  rising  tumult  with  a  master- 
ful word.  Afterward,  he  directed  his  speech  to 
Douglass. 

"What  answer  do  you  make?" 


PRESSED   HOME!  307 

"Answer?     I  make  none." 

"  Do  you  accept  judgment  without  offering  de- 
fence?" Pelan  questioned. 

The  Scotchman  was  no  longer  hot  or  domineer- 
ing; on  the  contrary,  he  had  become  very  cool  and 
watchful.  Before  replying,  he  smoothed  a  crease 
in  his  sleeve  with  great  deliberation,  and,  indeed, 
he  did  not  answer  the  storekeeper  at  all.  He  rose 
to  his  feet,  and  faced  Mr.  Fenton,  sitting  in  his 
chair  on  the  top  step.  By  no  means  had  the  agile- 
minded  scoundrel  exhausted  his  resources. 

"You  are  the  judge  of  this  self-appointed 
court,"  he  said  quietly.  "  It  is  both  irregular 
and  biassed.  I  do  not  recognise  or  accept  its 
rights  or  authority." 

"You  thought  it  sufficient  for  Maitland,  and 
have  participated  in  the  proceedings." 

"Yes;  for  he,  himself,  accepted  it." 

"Under  compulsion,  as  you  will  do." 

The  Scotchman  was  but  leading,  during  this 
skirmish,  to  his  real  purpose. 

"  So  be  it,"  said  he.  "  It's  Maitland's  trial — 
why  is  it  not  finished?  Yet,  when  I  consider  how 
it  has  been  conducted,  the  question  answers  itself. 
Without  interference  on  your  part,  your  honour, 
you  permit  the  suspicion  and  the  charge  to  shift 
from  him  to  me.  It  is  plain  to  see  how  the  mind 
of  the  judge  inclines,  and  has  inclined,  all  the 


308      THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

morning.  Where  is  your  procedure?  Where  is 
your  justice?"  And  he  negligently,  almost  indif- 
ferently, awaited  reply. 

Mr.  Fenton  kept  for  a  while  a  steadfast  silence, 
notwithstanding  the  insults  cast  in  his  teeth.  For, 
though  insults  they  were,  yet  they  had  point. 

"It  is  true — to  a  certain  extent,"  he  conceded, 
without  loss  of  dignity. 

"Well,  then,  I  demand  no  less  than  was 
granted  to  Maitland — a  fair  trial." 

Pelan  advanced  a  step. 

"  We  are  here,  we  have  heard  all  of  the  evi- 
dence; it  can  be  decided  now.  It  is  as  fair  for 
one  as  the  other." 

"  It  is  not,"  the  Scot  responded,  with  no  emo- 
tion. 

"What  would  you  have?"  the  storekeeper 
asked. 

"  What  he  had." 

A  low,  swelling  cry  of  anger  and  disappoint- 
ment from  the  onlookers  escaped  at  his  effort  to 
gain  delay.  Not  a  particle  disturbed,  not  even 
acknowledging  their  protest  by  sign  or  look, 
Douglass  stood  firm  and  composed,  with  his  slim, 
straight  back  to  Forge. 

"  Name  it,"  Pelan  said,  at  length. 

"Two  days  to  prepare  a  defence,"  Douglass 
stated.  "  That  is  an  accused  man's  right,  accord- 


PRESSED   HOME!  309 

ing  to  the  decree  of  Mr.  Fenton.  I  ask  but  my 
right." 

Two  days,  two  whole  days  to  scheme,  and  plot, 
and  dig  his  way  to  safety!  The  man  had  seized 
upon  the  one  thing  left  him,  the  one  thing  which, 
in  fairness,  could  not  be  denied  him;  he  had  with 
wonderful  clearness  seen  and  seized  it.  His  ras- 
cally brain  had  not  been  asleep.  I  saw  him  slip- 
ping out  of  our  fingers. 

"  No !  "  I  thundered. 

"Shall  I  have  less  than  my  brother?"  quoth 
the  Scot. 

"  Now !  Try  him,  now,"  came  from  a  hundred 
throats. 

"  I  demand  my  right." 

"Are  you  not  ready?"  Mr.  Fenton  asked. 

"  My  right,"  Douglass  insisted. 

"We  are  here,  ready,"  Pelan  said. 

"My  right;  I  demand  but  my  right." 

It  seemed  as  if  the  crowd  would  burst  upon 
him  and  work  justice  at  that  minute.  Gurley's 
confession,  together  with  the  knowledge  that 
Douglass  had  perjured  himself  in  trying  to  swear 
away  my  life,  had  inflamed  their  minds  almost 
past  control.  Cries  and  shouts  rang  under  the 
porch  roof;  the  throng  jostled  and  swayed  and 
tossed  like  angry  water;  the  line  of  miners  con- 
tracted, and  the  clear  space  grew  smaller  and 


3io      THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

smaller;  but  half  a  dozen  feet  separating  him 
from  the  outthrust,  brawny  fists.  Yet,  he  held  his 
place  on  the  lowest  step,  calm  and  unmoved,  if 
not  unheeding. 

"  My  right,"  he  said,  with  a  thin  smile. 

"  It  is  the  people  of  Forge,  not  I,  who  are 
judging  you,"  Mr.  Fenton  rejoined. 

"  Shall  Pilate  wash  his  hands  a  second  time  ? 
Give  me  my  right." 

The  taunt  struck  true  into  the  judge's  honour. 
Mr.  Fenton  rose,  and,  by  the  very  suppressed 
energy  of  his  uplifted,  authoritative  hand,  and  by 
the  white  indignation  of  his  face,  checked  the  im- 
pending rush. 

"Justice  you  shall  have — the  two  days  you  de- 
mand, and  then  justice.  Make  such  defence  as 
you  are  able,  for  justice  shall,  at  last,  take  her 
own.  You  are  between  the  millstones." 

Pelan    nodded.      "  It    is    fair — two    days,    no 


more." 


"Two  days  are  two  days.  We  shall  see," 
Douglass  said  lightly. 

"Take  him  away,  and  keep  him  safely,"  Mr. 
Fenton  ordered. 

The  Scot  lost  countenance  at  his  words;  but  di- 
rectly regained  his  insolence. 

"Am  I  not  to  be  a  prisoner  in  Forge  House? 
Are  you  not  to  be  my  keeper,  uncle,  as  you  were 


PRESSED   HOME!  311 

dear  Maitland's  ?  "  He  paused.  "Well,  I  sup- 
posed that  part  of  the  bargain;  but  I  shall  strive 
as  best  I  am  able,  and  by  the  use  of  the  poor  wits 
God  has  given  me,  to  get  along." 

Mr.  Fenton  motioned  to  the  storekeeper. 

"  I  put  him  in  your  charge,  Pelan,  and  you  will 
keep  him  in  the  town,  guarded  night  and  day. 
Saturday  morning  bring  him  here." 

With  an  impudent  laugh,  Douglass  lighted  a 
cigarette. 

"  Really,  Pelan,  I  prefer  your  company  to  the 
old  man's." 

Before  taking  the  new  prisoner,  the  storekeeper 
pointed  at  Long  Pete  Gurley,  who  still  remained 
up  on  the  office  step,  under  surveillance  of  Charlie, 
who  had  joined  him.  In  the  excitement  which 
had  gathered  round  the  person  of  the  Scotchman, 
the  outlaw  had  forgotten  his  own  dilemma;  but 
now  he  recalled  that  he,  himself,  was  yet  in 
jeopardy,  and  drew  back. 

"What  shall  be  done  with  him?"  Pelan  in- 
quired. 

"  I  assumed  the  responsibility  of  promising  him 
immunity,  if  he  told  the  truth,"  Mr.  Fenton 
stated.  "The  real  conspirator  was  the  man  I 
sought.  So,  men  of  Forge,  I  ask  you  to  indorse 
and  ratify  my  promise." 

This  the  miners  readily  did.    They  retained  no 


312      THE    PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

particular  resentment  against  Long  Pete,  seeing 
that  he  had  been  only  an  instrument  of  the  crafty 
Scotchman.  Gurley  was  one  of  them,  of  their 
own  flock  and  breed,  and  they,  therefore,  looked 
upon  his  crimes  with  a  lenient  eye,  especially  since 
he  had  confessed  them. 

"Wait;  I  am  yet  charged  with  murder,  and 
unjudged,"  I  said,  to  their  leader. 

A  hundred  voices  declared  my  innocence. 

"Is  that  sufficient?"  Pelan  asked,  with  an  ap- 
proach to  a  smile. 

"  Both  sufficient  and  gratifying.  I  bear  no 
malice  to  Forge.  Now,  let  some  of  you  catch 
Kelly's  assassin,  D'Urville,  and  lock  him  up  along 
with  Douglass.  One  is  as  guilty  as  the  other." 

A  score  of  men  ran  to  the  shop  and  other  out- 
buildings, but  their  search  was  in  vain.  The 
Frenchman  had  vanished.  Then,  it  appeared  that 
no  one  remembered  having  seen  him  the  whole 
morning,  neither  in  the  town  nor  about  Forge 
House,  nor  at  the  trial.  One  of  the  horses  was 
missing  from  the  stable;  the  man  had  taken  him- 
self off.  Wise,  fat,  far-sighted  D'Urville ! 

When  this  was  known  for  a  certainty,  Pelan 
turned,  and  placed  his  hand  on  Douglass'  shoul- 
der. 

"This  man  we  have.  The  house  beyond  Ben 
Anderson's  is  empty;  we'll  keep  him  there." 


PRESSED   HOME!  313 

"  Lead  ahead,"  Douglass  said,  with  a  shrug. 

I  had  drawn  near  to  him. 

"Who  knows  what  a  day  may  bring  forth,"  I 
said. 

"  It  is  barely  noon;  who  knows?  "  he  answered, 
with  a  full  look. 

"Let  us  hope  they  do  not  change  their  minds 
and  lynch  you." 

"Ah!  There  spoke  honest  Maitland,"  he 
sneered. 

Down  the  knoll  went  the  man  with  all  the 
crowd  about  him.  Among  his  guards  walked 
Charlie  and  Pelan  and  I — and  Gurley;  Gurley,  of 
all  men!  For  the  fellow,  now  that  he  had  turned 
virtuous,  felt  it  incumbent  upon  himself  to  play 
the  role  to  the  extreme,  talking  loudly,  and  urg- 
ing the  others  to  vigilance.  To  Douglass,  this 
must  have  been  the  irony  of  fate;  and  once  he 
turned  to  the  man  with  a  sardonic  smile,  though 
without  words.  In  general,  he  was  little  affected 
by  the  contempt  and  jeers  that  the  villagers  freely 
heaped  upon  him.  He  went  carelessly,  almost 
scornfully,  to  his  prison. 

One  time  only,  during  his  march,  did  he  lose 
colour  and  visibly  quail,  when  some  voice  mock- 
ingly asked  him  for  the  prayers  he  had  recited 
over  Joe  Lowden's  grave.  A  sudden  mad  roar 
was  wrung  from  the  throng  that  threatened  to 


3i4      THE   PRINCESS   OF  FORGE 

start  the  miners  into  action  against  his  life,  then 
and  there;  but  the  storm  passed.  He  came  to  the 
house,  entered,  and  the  doors  were  bolted.  Two 
there  were,  and  guards  were  placed  at  each. 

As  Charlie  and  I  passed  up  the  street,  on  our 
way  back  to  Forge  House,  I  was  greeted  on  every 
hand  by  smiles  and  pleasant  words.  How  many 
other  men  have  thus  gained  friends,  gaining  them 
over  another's  defeat?  Charlie  proposed  a  visit 
to  Pelan's  bar,  where  I  had  not  been,  or  scarcely 
dared  go,  for  many  days.  So  in  we  went.  The 
proprietor,  and  erstwhile  leader  of  the  forces  of 
Forge,  was  now  engaged  in  his  more  humble  and 
customary  occupation  of  dispensing  liquor.  I  ob- 
served that  he  dispensed  it  with  the  same  fair 
hand  with  which  he  had  dispensed  justice.  After 
a  moment,  he  joined  us,  and  handed  out  a 
bottle. 

"You  have  never  been  a  friend  of  mine, 
Pelan,"  I  said,  "and  less  in  this  whole  business 
of  my  trial  than  in  the  rest." 

His  face  expressed  nothing. 

"Shall  I  leave  Forge?"  he  asked,  finally. 

"  Oh,  I  hold  no  grudge  against  you  for  it.  But 
I  recommend  that  you  pick  your  patrons  with 


more  care." 


"  I  have  already  made  a  start  with  you,"  he  re- 
turned.    And  I  thought  that  his  eyes  twinkled. 


PRESSED   HOME!  315 

"  Well,  keep  it  up.  There's  no  reason  for  your 
running  the  worst  saloon  in  town." 

"I  judge  no  man's  actions  or  morals,  so  long 
as  he  pays  for  his  drinks." 

"Well,  I  don't  know  but  what  you're  right, 
Pelan,"  I  said.  "  If  you  came  no  nearer  the  mark 
than  you  did  in  judging  of  my  crimes,  you  would 
miss  it  regularly." 

"Hereafter,  I  shall  judge  neither  morals  nor 
crimes,"  he  said.  "No  money;  the  drinks  are  on 
the  house." 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

A   GHOST   IN  THE    CELLAR 

MANY  wild  stories  were  rife  in  Forge  the  rest 
of  that  day,  each  more  extravagant  than  its  fore- 
runner, born  of  the  disclosures  of  the  morning, 
and  accepted  with  wonderful  credulity.  Had 
Douglass  known  how  the  common  imagination  in- 
flated his  iniquities,  I  think  the  versatile  scoundrel 
would  have  extracted  as  much  entertainment  from 
this  new  reputation,  which  ascribed  to  him  son- 
ship  of  the  devil,  as  did  we  who  computed  more 
exactly  his  status.  In  the  mouth  of  gossip,  his 
one-time  innocent  past  now  became,  by  the  light 
of  later  revelations,  black  with  sinister  meaning; 
a  hundred  of  the  Scotchman's  idle  words  were  re- 
membered, a  hundred  of  his  actions,  and  his  con- 
federate's, were  magnified  by  wagging  tongues 
into  a  hundred  additional  crimes;  and  the  most 
impossible  pasts  were  attributed  to  the  two  men 
before  their  arrival  in  Forge.  The  climax  was 
reached  toward  evening,  when  the  tale  was  talked 
among  the  most  ignorant  miners  that  Duke,  black 
and  shiny,  was  Satan  himself,  in  a  horse's  shape, 
and  that  he  could  blow  fire  out  of  his  nostrils. 

316 


A   GHOST    IN  THE    CELLAR     317 

The  placer  continued  idle  that  afternoon,  as  it 
had  done  since  the  Sunday  when  Joe  Lowden  was 
found  dead  by  the  river.  Work  was  out  of  ques- 
tion, with  excitement  so  gripping  the  men  and 
women  of  the  town,  and  could  be  resumed  only 
when  quiet  was  wholly  restored  to  the  canon. 

After  a  hurried  lunch,  I  led  a  number  of  men 
carrying  picks  and  shovels  to  the  log  house  in 
the  ravine  where  the  princess  and  I  had  been  held 
for  ransom.  So  unchanged  was  it  since  the  morn- 
ing I  had  come  down  the  trail,  following  in  the 
footsteps  of  the  Frenchman,  that  it  seemed  that 
I  had  been  absent  but  an  hour.  Hanging  from  a 
branch  behind  old  Morgan's  cabin  were  the  strap 
ends  of  two  or  three  bridles;  under  the  spur  of 
thirst  and  hunger,  the  outlaws'  animals  had 
snapped  the  leather  and  gone. 

Inside  the  house,  Stork's  body  lay  upon  the 
floor  where  the  sheep  herder  and  I  had  left  it, 
face  downward  and  one  hand  outstretched,  claw- 
ing at  nothing.  Near  the  flat  rock  and  in  the 
bushes  where  I  had  hidden  it,  we  found  all  that 
was  left  of  Merry  Mac.  And  by  the  rock,  the 
rock  which  had  been  Mac's  last  seat  and  jesting 
place,  the  rock  where  D'Urville  had  so  traitor- 
ously stabbed  him,  we  buried  the  two  men  in  one 
grave,  and  rolled  a  thick  boulder  to  mark  the 
spot.  When  we  had  finished  and  set  out  for 


3 1 8-      THE    PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

home,  the  sun  was  dropping  behind  the  western 
heights,  and,  by  the  time  we  reached  Forge,  it 
had  entirely  disappeared,  and  the  purple  light  of 
evening  lay  in  the  canon. 

My  workmen  passed  on  down  the  knoll  to  the 
village.  But,  with  a  sigh  of  relief,  I  entered  the 
house,  looking  right  and  left  in  the  great  hall, 
and  hoping  for  a  word  alone  with  Ethys  before 
meeting  the  others.  But  dinner  was  just  being 
announced  by  Nashimi,  and  my  pretty  plan  for  a 
tete-a-tete  with  the  sweet  girl  I  loved  must  needs 
be  postponed. 

Ten  minutes  sufficed  me  to  rid  myself  of  the 
dust  of  my  day's  battles  and  buryings.  When  I 
entered  the  dining-room,  Charlie  was  graphically 
relating  our  adventure  in  Douglass'  room  the 
night  before,  and  our  subsequent  capture  of  Gur- 
ley.  One  of  the  customary  company  was  absent, 
one  whose  handsome,  narrow,  scarred  face  we 
missed — thankfully. 

"Well,  I  searched  his  effects  through  and 
through  this  afternoon,"  Woodworth  informed 
me. 

"Find  anything?" 

"  Nothing.  Wherever  he  hid  the  gold  is  more 
than  my  mind  can  decipher;  and  it  seems  safe  till 
he  comes  to  earth  again  in  his  next  reincarna- 
tion." 


A   GHOST    IN   THE    CELLAR     319 

"  Charlie,  you  give  me  shudders,"  Mrs.  Arling- 
ton remarked. 

"  Douglass  could  give  you  a  good  deal  more. 
Yes,  I  went  through  his  possessions  upstairs, 
which  were  not  many,  and  finished  where  I  began. 
The  man  is  a  mystery.  There  is  a  sword,  an 
officer's  sword,  of  the  English  army.  There  are 
photographs  of  women,  and  beautiful  women, 
too,  which  were  taken  in  Cairo  or  Calcutta,  or 
Buenos  Ayres  or  Hongkong  or  elsewhere.  There 
was  a  creese,  a  Malayan  creese,  an  ivory  set  of 
chessmen,  a  woman's  slipper " 

"  Then,  it  appears  he  had  a  streak  of  sentiment 
in  his  make-up,  after  all,"  Mr.  Arlington  re- 
marked. 

'  Yes ;  and  there  were  dice  and  cards  and  car- 
tridges, clothes,  and  a  blue  kimono,  French 
novels,  and  a  heap  of  other  things.  Toward  the 
last,  I  came  across  a  roll  of  drawings,  which,  as 
near  as  I  could  make  out,  were  of  a  German  for- 
tress. Perhaps  he  expected  to  raise  money  on 
them  some  time.  He  certainly  had  dipped  into  a 
good  many  things  before  he  put  his  head  into 
these  mountains.  But  I  never  found  trace  of  the 
gold." 

"How  about  the  shop;  did  you  try  there?"  I 
asked. 

"  Cracked  every  bolt  and  box  in  the  place,  with 


320      THE   PRINCESS   OF  FORGE 

no  better  success.  The  Frenchman  must  have 
abandoned  Douglass  last  night,  and  taken  to 
flight,  for  his  portmanteau  was  gone  with  him." 

"  Then,  the  gold  is  gone,  too." 

"  It  looks  mightily  like  it,"  Mr.  Fenton  said. 
"No  doubt  that  will  console  Douglass  some- 
what for  his  incarceration.  Anything  to  beat 


us." 


"What  an  awful  man  he  is!  And  to  think 
that  only  this  morning  he  sat  here  at  my  left ! " 
Mrs.  Arlington  exclaimed. 

Woodworth  brooded  darkly. 

"Would  Douglass  leave  the  gold  to  D'Ur- 
ville?"  he  said.  "I  doubt  it.  I'm  in  favour  of 
applying  a  red-hot  poker  to  the  soles  of  his " 

"Charlie!" 

The  word  burst  from  Mrs.  Arlington. 

"  Why,  that's  one  of  his  own  tricks,"  Wood- 
worth  grinned.  "  It  was  his  own  practice  on  the 
Gold  Coast,  and  elsewhere  in  Africa,  he  once  told 
me,  to  make  natives  reveal  where  they  had  buried 
their  ivory." 

"  Don't  mention  it,"  she  said  faintly. 

"  I'll  spare  you  the  finer  tortures  that  followed 
the  first." 

"Do!" 

"There's  one  thing  we'll  have,  hereafter,  gold 
or  no  gold;  and  that's  a  wire  running  down  to 


A   GHOST    IN  THE    CELLAR      321 

Cold  Springs,"  Mr.  Fenton  declared.  "  Sixty 
miles — we  might  as  well  be  on  the  moon.  If  we 
had  had  a  telephone " 

"  I'm  glad  there  was  none,"  Charlie  inter- 
rupted; "it  would  have  spoiled  everything." 

"Well,  my  boy,  this  sort  of  an  affair  such  as 
we've  just  been  through  may  be  to  your  liking; 
but,  at  my  age,  I  don't  care  for  it.  As  I  say,  if 
we'd  had  a  'phone,  we'd  have  had  up  the  sheriff, 
and  all  this  trouble  would  have  been  avoided. 
When  they  do  arrive,  Douglass  goes  into  their 
hands  at  once,  if  it's  at  midnight.  I  want  him 
packed  out  of  the  canon.  I'll  take  no  risk  of  a 
lynching.  The  New  York  papers  would  jump  up 
and  down  with  glee  if  that  happened.  They'll 
say  enough  when  they  know  what's  been  happen- 
ing, as  it  is." 

"You  might  catch  it;  but  I'm  sure  the  ladies 
would  not  suffer,"  I  laughed.  "  They'd  get  col- 
umns of  the  heroine  business,  with  front-page  pic- 
tures OA.  Sunday,  and  whole  issues  about  their 
toilets.  Perhaps  the  sacrifice  on  your  part  would 
be  worth  while,  Mr.  Fenton." 

"  If  they  dare  do  anything  like  that !  "  the  prin- 
cess cried. 

"You'll  all — we'll  all,  most  certainly  catch  it, 
when  they  learn,"  I  said. 

"  As  usual,"  Mr.  Fenton  said.    "  To  change  the 


322       THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

subject,  and  get  back  to  the  one  we  were  discuss- 
ing earlier,  about  a  new  manager " 

I  started. 

"A — ' — "  I  began;  then  stopped. 

"Yes;  we,  the  princess,  who  is  owner  of  Forge, 
and  I,  have  decided  to  have  a  new  manager,  and 
let  you  act  as  assistant." 

He  thoughtfully  stroked  his  grey  moustache, 
and  scrutinised  me  with  a  steady  gaze.  I  cast  a 
glance  about  the  table,  completely  surprised  at  the 
news,  a  little  piqued  that  I  had  failed  in  their 
estimation,  and  in  my  office,  and  secretly  growing 
angry  that  Mr.  Fenton  had  thus  made  a  matter  of 
common  discussion  my  failure  as  manager.  Mrs. 
Arlington  smiled  consolingly,  I  thought,  while 
Ethys  sat  blushing. 

"If  my  successor  finds  Forge  as  full  of  sur- 
prises as  I've  found  it,  he'll  have  busy  nights  as 
well  as  days,"  I  said  quietly.  "Losing  gold,  I 
acknowledge,  is  rather  a  blot  on  a  man's  record." 

"I  judge  you  don't  like  it  here,  then?" 

"  Oh,  as  to  that,  Forge  is  good  enough,"  I  re- 
plied; "  it's  the  breed  of  assistants  that  caused  me 
insomnia.  But  I'm  not  sure  that  I  shall  care  to 
act  in  the  capacity  of  second.  I've  one  or  two 
offers  still  open  to  me.  However,  I  wish  the  new 
manager  the  best  of  luck.  May  I  inquire  the 
gentleman's  name?" 


A   GHOST    IN   THE    CELLAR     323 

"  You've  heard  it — Rogers.  I  must  do  him  the 
justice  of  replacing  him.  The  man  was  innocent 
and  faithful.  As  soon  as  I  can  locate  him,  I'll 
bring  him  back." 

"Perfectly  right,"  I  said.  "From  all  I've 
heard,  Rogers  was  square  and  honest,  and  a  good 
engineer.  I  only  regret  that  Kelly  isn't  alive  to 
know  it.  Forge  will  welcome  him,  too." 

I  looked  instinctively  at  Ethys,  and  met  her 
eyes.  She  bit  her  lip. 

;'  You  people  should  be  ashamed  of  yourselves, 
so  to  annoy  Mr.  Maitland  when  he  has  barely 
come  from  his  trial,"  she  said. 

Smiles  began  to  run  around  the  table,  and  she 
blushed.  Then  suddenly  Mr.  Arlington  broke  out 
in  a  laugh,  in  which  the  others  joined,  even  Ethys. 

But  it  was  no  laughing  matter  to  me.  I  was 
tired,  disappointed,  and  down-hearted;  moreover, 
indignant.  My  cheeks  gradually  grew  warm. 
At  last,  their  laughter  became  too  much  for  me 
to  bear.  I  set  my  jaw,  and  raised  my  head,  and, 
when  I  spoke,  I  had  a  manner  nearly  as  cold,  as 
haughty,  as  grand,  as  Douglass  himself  would 
have  worn. 

"  If  you  will  be  so  kind  as  to  grant  me  a  fa- 
vour at  this  late  hour,  Mr.  Fenton,  I  will  ask  you 
to  postpone  discussion  of  my  dismissal  until  we're 
alone." 


324      THE    PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

Yes,  I  must  have  been  very  chilling  and  digni- 
fied. For,  this  time,  their  laughter  was  a  shout; 
it  burst  all  bounds,  and  filled  the  room. 

"  You — you  blind  man,"  said  Mrs.  Arlington, 
bubbling  with  fresh  laughter. 

"  You  lucky  fool !  "  said  Charlie. 

Fortunately,  we  arose  from  the  table,  just  then, 
I  with  the  rest;  and  my  sensations  were  in  a  very 
complex  state,  anger  mixed  with  bewilderment, 
doubt  with  umbrage.  Their  enjoyment  of  my  dis- 
comfiture followed  me  into  the  drawing-room. 

Mr.  Fenton  clapped  his  hand  on  my  shoulder, 
and  looked  me  in  the  eyes. 

"  What  was  it  you  said  when  Pelan  asked  you, 
to-day,  if  you  loved  Ethys?"  he  said. 

My  blood  began  to  flow  hotter. 

"  I  said,  more  or  less,  that  I  loved  Ethys,"  I 
returned  doggedly;  "and  I  do.  What's  more,  I 
don't  care  who  knows  it." 

"Does  she  return  your  love?" 

"  Stop  !  "  Ethys  cried. 

"  I  thought  so  until  this  evening,"  I  answered, 
a  trace  of  bitterness  escaping  in  my  tone ;  "  but  I 
find  that  I  was  mistaken.  No,  she  does  not,  and 
wisely,  no  doubt.  Her  wealth  is  very  great,  while 
I'm  an  ordinary  engineer  or  mechanic " 

"  Oh !  "  cried  Ethys. 

"  Only  a  mechanic,"  I  went  on,  looking  past 
Mr.  Fenton  at  her,  whose  cheeks  were  slowly  los- 


A  GHOST   IN  THE   CELLAR     325 

ing  their  colour.  "If  I  made  a  mistake  in  ad- 
mitting I  loved  her,  I  most  humbly  apologise." 

"Oh!  "  said  she,  again. 

"And  I  shall  go  away  from  Forge." 

"Tut — tut!  I  had  nothing  to  do  with  your 
dismissal  as  manager,"  her  uncle  stated.  "That's 
her  work.  I  was  satisfied;  but  she  is  not.  She 
wants  you  to  manage  her — if  you  can." 

He  gave  my  shoulder  a  squeeze,  his  eyes 
gleamed  with  mirth.  Then  I  beheld  Ethys' 
cheeks  once  more  growing  a  beautiful  rose,  while 
her  lips  smiled.  She  turned,  and  ran  away  into 
another  room,  hiding  her  face  in  her  hands. 

And  then  light  broke  into  my  benighted  mind. 
In  truth,  I  had  been  what  Charlie  called  me,  a 
fool. 

"  Go  and  find  her,"  he  said. 

His  hand  dropped  to  mine,  and  closed  about 
my  fingers  in  a  final  strong,  friendly,  sincere  grip. 

I  found  her  in  the  library.  What  we  said  and 
did,  though  of  the  most  importance  in  the  world 
to  us,  really  does  not  matter  to  any  one  else.  Suf- 
fice it  to  say  that  there,  in  the  shadow  of  the 
window,  we  again  sealed  what  we  had  already 
confessed  in  that  same  room.  So,  presently,  we 
went  forth  to  the  others,  who  said  we  had  been 
gone  long.  But  I  deny  that;  indeed,  it  was  no1 
time  at  all — though  the  clock  had,  somehow, 
slipped  forward  half  an  hour. 


32<5      THE    PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

Toward  nine,  there  came  a  pounding  of  horses' 
feet  on  the  driveway  outside.  Woodworth  made 
for  the  door,  and  a  shout  from  him  announced 
that  the  sheriff  and  his  posse  had  arrived.  Like 
a  troop  of  children,  we  set  off  to  see  them  where 
they  sat  in  the  saddle,  jaded  and  hungry,  after 
their  forced  ride.  I  had  hardly  taken  a  step  when 
I  felt  a  touch  on  my  elbow.  It  was  Nashimi. 

"There  is  a  man  in  the  cellar,"  said  he. 

"A  man!'*  I  exclaimed  softly. 

"Yes,  sir.  The  cellar  door  was  open — I  ob- 
tained a  footstep.  He  was  moving  about.  Now, 
I  hear  it  no  more." 

"What  is  it?"  asked  Ethys,  who  lingered. 

"Nothing  worth  troubling  about.  I'll  have  to 
look  into  it;  but  you  go  out  with  the  rest." 

My  smile  did  not  deceive  her;  she  had  seen 
the  grave  change  the  servant's  information  had 
worked  on  my  countenance.  She  came  nearer, 
anxiety  visible  on  her  brow. 

"Is  something  wrong,  Jack?" 

"Why,  no.  There's  only  a  ghost  in  the  cellar 
that  must  be  laid.  I'll  be  back  in  three  seconds. 
Perhaps  Nashimi  was  wrong." 

"  I'm  afraid  for  you." 

"Why,  dear?" 

"  I  don't  know ;  I  can't  tell ;  only  I  feel  here  " 
— and  she  touched  her  bosom — "that  something 


A   GHOST   IN  THE    CELLAR     327 

is  wrong,  and  that  there  is  danger.  See,  you've 
taken  your  revolver  out." 

I  soothed  her  fears. 

"  Merely  as  a  precaution.  I  may  be  attacked 
by  a  troop  of  rats.  What  is  there  to  be  afraid 
of?  And,  haven't  we  a  whole  guard  now,  out  in 
front?" 

Pressing  her  hand,  I  left  her,  and  stole  down 
into  the  cellar.  At  the  bottom  of  the  stair,  I 
halted.  I  had  no  light,  and  strained  my  eyes  at 
the  murky  darkness  about  me. 

I  saw  nothing,  I  heard  nothing  but  the  steady, 
regular  pulsations  of  my  heart.  A  cool  breath 
blew  against  my  cheek,  and  I  guessed  by  the 
draught  that  the  outside  basement  door  was  open, 
and  that  thus,  whoever  had  entered,  had  come. 
Clutching  my  revolver,  I  stole  noiselessly  across 
the  floor  until  my  outstretched  fingers  touched  the 
door  jamb.  Into  the  next  room  I  passed,  through 
it,  and  into  a  third.  Hardly  had  I  advanced  a 
step  in  this  when  I  halted.  A  fourth  room  opened 
off  at  right  angles,  and  the  connecting  door  ap- 
peared before  my  eyes,  lighted  with  a  faint  illu- 
mination, like  a  dim  yellow,  rectangular  panel.  I 
crept  closer,  cautiously,  slowly.  Who  could  the 
intruder  be,  I  asked  myself;  who  the  man? 

At  last,  I  could  see  into  the  room.  The  sight 
that  greeted  my  eyes  held  me  spellbound.  In  the 


328       THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

middle  of  the  floor  sat  a  lighted  candle,  its  flame 
standing  up  straight  and  quiet  with  a  halo  about 
it,  in  the  heart  of  the  darkness.  Here  and  there, 
its  mild  beams  touched  the  edge  of  a  stone  pillar, 
or  brought  out,  in  dim  relief,  the  shapes  of  liquor 
cases.  Between  rafters,  there  faintly  glistened 
spider  webs,  and  on  a  long  shelf  glimmered  a  line 
of  round,  flat  flasks.  Yet,  the  light  was  but  a 
spot  in  the  blackness  of  the  room,  leaving  the  cor- 
ners and  walls  unreached. 

But  it  was  the  centre  of  the  picture  that  fas- 
cinated me.  Down  on  his  knees  beside  the  candle 
was  the  man  whom  I  had  come  to  find,  one  of  the 
liquor  cases  dragged  before  him,  two  empty  bot- 
tles on  their  sides  on  the  dirt  of  the  floor,  a  third 
bottle  in  his  hand,  and  yet  a  fourth  a  little  way 
off,  shining  ruby-red.  The  last  the  man  had 
opened  to  quench  his  thirst  as  he  attended  de- 
liberately to  the  business  that  had  brought  him 
here.  By  his  knee  rested  a  buckskin  bag,  into 
which  he  poured  from  the  heavy  bottle  in  his 
hand  a  shimmering,  yellow  stream  of  gold  dust. 
Two  or  three  lumps  in  the  side  of  the  bag  be- 
trayed the  presence  of  bricks.  The  man  poured 
without  haste,  and  with  care — and  the  man  was 
Douglass ! 

Amazement  mastered  me  for  a  time.  He,  here? 
I  could  scarcely  credit  the  evidence  of  my  own 


Down  on  his  knees  beside  the  candle  was  the  man 
whom  I  had  come  to  find  " 


A   GHOST    IN  THE    CELLAR     329 

eyes.  Had  he,  as  the  people  whispered  among 
themselves,  the  powers  of  the  Evil  One,  powers 
that  enabled  him  to  laugh  at  locks  and  bolts,  to 
fly  out  of  chinks  and  keyholes?  Douglass  in  the 
cellar  of  Forge  House!  It  was  beyond  belief! 
But  I  swiftly  lost  my  astonishment  in  a  feeling 
of  chagrin  at  my  own  lack  of  penetration.  He 
had  hidden  the  gold  where  first  he  had  secreted  it 
when  Rogers  had  gone,  and  I  not  yet  come.  He 
had  told  me  of  the  place  with  his  own  mouth,  and, 
like  the  cunning  rogue  he  was,  had  counted  on 
my  never  giving  it  a  second  consideration.  The 
trick  was  so  simple,  so  old,  yet  so  profound. 

Through  the  door  I  crept,  stealthily  approach- 
ing him,  until  I  stood  a  short  eight  feet  away. 
His  back  was  to  me.  Placing  the  bottle  of  slow- 
running  gold  dust  on  the  floor,  he  took  a  drink 
of  wine,  lighted  a  cigarette,  and  thoughtfully 
puffed  at  it  while  he  rested.  Then,  once  more 
lifting  the  treasure  bottle,  he  proceeded  to  empty 
the  last  of  its  contents  into  the  bag. 

In  the  light  of  the  candle,  the  slender,  shining 
stream  flowed  and  flowed,  without  a  sound.  But, 
at  last,  he  was  done.  He  drew  the  neck  of  the 
bag  together,  and  tied  it  with  a  thong,  and  once 
again  sat  back  to  smoke  and  ponder. 

Then  happened  a  strange  thing.  I  made  no 
sound,  I  made  no  movement,  I  betrayed  myself  in 


330      THE    PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

no  way;  but,  all  of  a  sudden,  Douglass  lifted  his 
head,  and  turned  it  about  until  his  eyes  met  mine. 
Both  of  us  were,  I  think,  startled  by  their  unex- 
pected meeting.  He  continued  to  kneel,  with  the 
fingers  of  his  right  hand  on  a  moustache  point, 
and  I  continued  to  stand  with  my  revolver  hang- 
ing by  my  leg.  So,  for  a  long  minute,  we  stared 
at  each  other  in  this  strange  exchange  of  looks. 

At  last,  a  single  word  escaped  his  lips,  a  word 
spoken  past  and  beyond  me :  "  Destiny  1 " 

That  word  broke  the  spell. 

"  I  see  we'll  have  to  keep  you  in  Forge  House, 
after  all,"  I  said. 

"That  will  make  us  brothers  again,"  he  an- 
swered, getting  back  his  impudence. 

"  Brothers !  Thank  Heaven  we  were  never 
that!  With  your  heart  so  crowded  with  crimes, 
I  should  think  the  blood  would  burst  out  of  your 
skin  like  wine  out  of  a  rotten  wine  sack." 

"  Fine  words,"  said  he,  unperturbed.  "  Your 
presence,  however,  Maitland,  puts  me  out  of 
countenance.  You've  a  devilish  inconvenient 
knack  of  turning  up  at  the  wrong  minute."  And 
he  twisted  his  moustache  with  impatience. 

;'  The  right  minute,  I  should  say." 

"We'll  not  squabble  over  a  phrase.  What's 
the  next  move?" 

"  Pick  up   the  candle."     He  did  so,   and,   in 


A   GHOST    IN   THE    CELLAR     331 

addition,  the  bag  of  gold.     "Let  that  be!"  I  or- 
dered. 

"  I  love  to  please,"  he  said,  letting  it  fall. 
"  You  have  always  charmed  me,  my  dear  Mait- 
land,  by  your  high-handed  manners.  And  how 
is  the  dear  young  lady  upstairs?  And  dear  uncle? 
Tell  him  he  still  owes  me  a  couple  of  months'  sal- 
ary, and  that  I'll  be  round  some  day  to  collect  it 
— with  interest." 

"  Stand  up  on  your  feet,  like  a  man,"  I  com- 
manded, "  instead  of  squatting  on  your  heels  like 
a  Zulu  or  Hottentot.  The  sheriff  and  his  posse 
are  awaiting  you  at  the  door,  and  I  want  to  see 
you  in  handcuffs.  I've  waited  two  months  for 
the  pleasure." 

He  rose,  as  I  had  bid,  and  regarded  me  with 
a  singular  smile. 

"  Time  was  when  we  moved  friendlilyt  side  by 
side,  Maitland,"  said  he,  "  instead  of  as  foes." 

"  I  don't  care  for  your  sentimentalising. 
Come;  hold  your  candle  in  front  of  you,  and 
follow."  And  I  began  backing  toward  the  door 
of  the  room,  while  keeping  him  covered  with  my 
gun. 

'Yes;  but  to  think  we  walk  separated  "by  a 
trifling  matter  of  gold." 

"It's  not  gold,  but  lead,  at  present.  Come; 
make  a  start!  "  For  he  had  not  moved. 


332       THE   PRINCESS  OF   FORGE 

Suddenly,  his  hand  shut  down  over  the  candle, 
and  darkness  enveloped  us.  I  did  not  fire.  In- 
stead, I  groped  swiftly  to  the  door,  and,  crouch- 
ing there,  waited.  He  could  not  pass  out  of  this 
one  room,  save  he  passed  over  my  body,  and  I 
had  no  intention  of  permitting  that. 

Out  of  the  darkness  came  his  mocking  voice: 
"  Maitland,  you  coward,  here  I  am !  Why  do 
you  skulk?  Come  and  take  me,  you  cavy!  Come 
in,  for  the  honour  of  your  mistress  1 "  and  he 
laughed  evilly. 

I  neither  moved  nor  answered. 

"  Come  on — come  on !  "  he  mocked. 

Then  he  was  silent  again.  With  every  nerve 
alert,  I  hearkened  for  his  footfall,  yet  so  noise- 
lessly did  he  advance  that  I  was  not  aware  of  him 
till  his  coat  brushed  my  face  as  I  stooped.  Round 
the  waist  I  seized  him,  shutting  his  arms  to  his 
sides,  and,  lifting  him  clean  from  the  floor,  sought 
to  press  him  down. 

I  failed.  Squirming  in  my  grasp,  he  struggled, 
hand  and  foot,  cursing  fast  and  furious  all  the 
while,  until  he  got  his  left  hand  free  and  closed 
it  on  my  throat.  Left  hand  though  it  was,  it  was 
a  hand  of  steel,  and  slowly  it  tightened,  until  I 
could  no  longer  breathe,  and  my  temples  com- 
menced to  throb  in  beats  of  fire,  and  my  lungs 
were  in  agony.  I  staggered  where  I  stood,  gulp- 


A   GHOST    IN   THE    CELLAR     333 

ing  for  the  living  air  that  was  denied  me,  while 
a  great  roaring  swelled  in  my  ears,  and  a  giddi- 
ness swam  in  my  brain.  Still,  his  hand  clamped 
my  throat,  like  an  iron  band.  By  a  single  mighty 
effort,  a  gathering  of  all  the  strength  in  my  arms 
and  bones  and  marrow,  I  lifted  his  body,  :and 
hurled  it  through  the  darkness  at  the  wall.  Then, 
reeling  about  until  I  found  the  door  frame,  I 
leaned  against  it,  and  filled  my  lungs  ,in  great 
gasps. 

I  feared  Douglass  no  longer,  for  his  body 
struck  the^  stones  with  the  soft  crushing  thud  that 
an  orange  makes  when  thrown  against  a  rock. 
All  the  life  in  him,  I  hoped,  had  been  driven  out. 
I  listened.  Not  a  sound  came  from  the  spot 
where  he  lay.  Striking  a  match,  I  perceived  his 
body  stretched  full  length  on  the  ground  a  little 
distance  from  the  door.  He  was  quite  still. 

I  crossed  to  the  middle  of  the  room,  finding 
the  candle  where  he  had  dropped  it,  and  holding 
my  match  to  its  wick.  That  done,  I  looked  up ; 
I  even  took  a  step  toward  the  spot  where  I  had 
left  him.  A  low,  triumphant  chuckle  came  from 
the  door. , 

"That  was  a  cruel  slam  you  gave  me,  Mait- 
land,"  he  said,  "  and  a  rib  or  two  are  broken;  but 
I  shall  fare  on."  With  a  sudden  move,  he  placed 
his  hand  on  his  side,  in  pain.  "  Oh,  God ! " 


334      THE    PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

His  figure  was  dimly  outlined,  and  remained 
motionless  a  minute,  as  did  I.  For,  in  his  other 
hand,  he  held  a  revolver.  Slowly,  I  let  the  can- 
dle slide  down  through  my  fingers  until  they  were 
at  the  flame;  I  quenched  it,  and  leaped  aside. 

A  blinding  flash  exploded  before  my  eyes, 
a  roar  rang  in  the  room,  and  I  stood  dazed, 
hearing  a  muffled  running  to  and  fro  of  feet  over- 
head. Then  I  sprang  forward.  Douglass'  foot- 
steps sounded  before  me;  and  so  we  raced,  care- 
less of  obstacles,  blindly,  from  room  to  room. 
My  rage  was  bitter;  I  had  let  him  slip  from  me 
without  firing  a  shot. 

At  the  stair  I  hesitated — all  was  uproar  in  the 
kitchen  above.  Outside  the  house,  there  came  a 
whistle.  I  sprang  to  the  basement  exit,  and  ran 
out  into  the  night.  Which  way  had  he  gone? 
I  halted,  gripping  my  weapon,  and  looking  right 
and  left. 


CHAPTER   XXIV 

AT  THE   END  OF  THE   STREET 

AFTER  the  close  warmth  of  the  pent  cellar,  the 
cool  night  air  struck  my  face  like  a  damp  mist. 
My  ears  still  rang  with  the  shot  Douglass  had 
fired;  though,  after  experiencing  its  muffled  roar, 
the  open  space  about  me  seemed  very  quiet.  Down 
in  the  town,  the  line  of  electric  lights  sparkled 
sharply,  a  string  of  flashing  diamonds.  Here, 
however,  the  darkness  was  complete;  and  I  cast 
about  me,  at  a  loss  to  choose  which  direction  to 
pursue.  Perhaps  the  time  I  stood  was  but  a  few 
seconds,  for  I  soon  heard,  immediately  ahead  of 
me,  the  Scot  calling  softly.  A  guarded  answer 
was  returned  by  some  one. 

Down  the  slope  I  ran,  without  noise,  until,  all 
at  once,  in  the  starlight,  a  darker  shape  loomed 
before  my  eyes,  and  I  caught  the  sound  of  creak- 
ing saddle  leather.  Two  men  with  horses  were 
before  the  stable  door,  and  were  mounting,  Doug- 
lass cursing  the  pain  of  his  broken  ribs  as  he  did 
so.  They  did  not  instantly  take  flight,  but  coolly 
sat  a  while,  arguing  ways,  notwithstanding  they 

335 


336      THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

knew  danger  crowded  them.  Treading  lightly,  I 
circled  them,  and  reached  the  door. 

"What  do  I  care  for  the  risk — I'll  see  her  in 
spite  of  it ! "  Douglass  exclaimed  vehemently. 
"  Didn't  she  pull  me  out  of  the  hole  down  yon- 
<der?  I'll  not  run  without  a  word  to  thank  her." 

After  all,  Douglass  had  a  small  grain  of  grati- 
tude tucked  away  somewhere  about  him. 

"  But,  mon  Frederic,  through  the  street  we  can- 
not go,"  came  from  the  second  horseman.  "Let 
it  be  down  the  river." 

The  Scotchman  laughed  recklessly. 

"Why  not?  Who's  to  hinder?  We'll  ride  the 
beggars  down  who  try  to  interfere.  Curse  Mait- 
larid!  I  feel  the  bones  grind  at  every  move.  I 
tell  you,  D'Urville,  I  want  a  last  shot  at  some- 
body." 

"  It  is  greatly  foolish,  yes,  that." 

But  the  speaker's  expostulation  was  given  re- 
signedly, as  if  he  recognised  the  uselessness  of 
argument  with  Douglass  in  his  present  mood. 

"Wise  or  foolish,"  said  the  latter,  "I'll  have 
a  last  shot,  and  a  last  kiss,  if  it  costs  me  my  neck." 

Their  conversation  was  carried  on  in  low  tones. 
In  my  eagerness  to  hear  it,  I  took  a  step  forward, 
scraping  the  gravel,  and  betraying  my  presence. 
D'Urville's  keen  ears  heard  the  little  noise,  and 
he  cried  out  to  Douglass,  asking  what  it  was.  I 


AT   THE   END   OF  THE   STREET    337 

could  imagine  the  pair  of  them  leaning  forward 
in  their  saddles,  and  peering  into  the  darkness. 
Well,  they  should  hear  something  worth  while,  I 
decided,  and,  throwing  up  my  revolver,  fired  into 
the  vague,  indistinct  mass  of  men  and  horses.  An 
oath  rang  out.  By  a  queer  chance,  the  bullet  had 
found  a  mark. 

"  By  Heaven,  in  my  knee ! "  Douglass  ex- 
claimed. 

Leaping  back  into  the  stable,  I  slipped  off  my 
horse's  halter,  and  led  him  quickly  to  the  door, 
flung  on  a  bridle,  and  sprang  upon  his  back,  almost 
before  the  two  men  had  recovered  from  their  sur- 
prise. But  the  pebbles  flying  from  their  horses' 
hoofs  told  me  they  had  recovered  from  their  sur- 
prise. Fiercely,  I  struck  my  steed  with  my  re- 
volver, and  he  bounded  forward. 

Slanting  down  the  slope,  the  pair  before  me 
galloped,  I  after  them ;  and,  all  together,  we  swept 
past  the  house  fifty  yards  to  the  east,  and  down 
to  the  village  road.  I  fired  a  shot  to  warn  the 
men  of  the  sheriff's  posse,  who  were  swinging 
around  the  building  at  a  sharp  clip  to  investigate 
the  report  which  they  had  heard  a  minute  before. 
And,  to  my  satisfaction,  I  saw  their  shadowy 
forms  whirling  about  between  me  and  the  win- 
dows and  falling  into  the  race. 

On  we  went.     Before  me,  I  distinguished  the 


338       THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

two  villains,  bobbing  up  and  down  against  the 
electric  lights,  as  they  forged  on  at  tremendous 
speed.  I  was  not  thirty  yards  behind.  Down  by 
the  river,  the  drone  of  the  turbines  was  clear  and 
loud;  but  it  rapidly  fell  behind  as  we,  pursued  and 
pursuers,  swept  into  the  road.  Past  the  huge 
boulder,  which  marked  the  path  to  the  boats,  we 
went;  past  the  gully  where  D'Urville  had  sought 
to  ensnare  Douglass'  sweetheart;  past  the  circle 
of  shadow  cast  by  the  first  arc  lamp;  with  the 
roll  of  hoofbeats  pounding  on  the  hard  earth. 

The  riders  behind  me  dropped  farther  and  far- 
ther back,  their  jaded  beasts  unable  to  keep  the 
furious  pace  we  set.  Once — twice — a  man  of  them 
fired  at  us,  unable  to  guess  whether  one  or  all  of 
us  were  fleeing,  and  the  bullets  whizzed  past  my 
head  with  a  whine  singularly  unpleasant. 

Bending  forward,  I  called  to  my  horse,  and 
the  noble  animal  stretched  his  neck  in  response, 
making  a  burst  of  speed  that  lessened  the  interval. 
He  rose  from  the  earth  scarcely  at  all,  flying  along 
the  way  level  as  an  arrow.  The  air  rushed  against 
my  face  a  gale,  while  my  hair  blew  about  my 
bare  head.  I  had  cut  the  space  between  me  and 
the  pair  to  twenty  yards;  but  this  I  could  not  re- 
duce. 

Out  of  the  cover  of  darkness,  we  shot  into 
the  mouth  of  the  lighted  town,  clattering  loudly 


AT   THE   END   OF  THE   STREET    339 

along  the  stony  street.  The  first  houses  flashed 
by,  and,  under  one  lamp,  I  flung  a  shot  after 
them;  under  a  second,  another.  Douglass  looked 
over  his  shoulder,  and,  with  a  laugh,  he  flung  up 
a  mocking  hand. 

'"Follow,  follow;  I  will  follow  ever,'"  floated 
back  to  me  from  his  lips,  wildly  sung. 

Past  the  stores  we  raced,  where  I  saw  men 
starting  up  on  the  platforms,  to  stand  and  stare. 
Past  houses,  past  lamps.  From  end  to  end  of  the 
street  seemed  but  a  minute's  flight;  and,  in  the 
darkness  beyond,  they  would  be  safe.  Strive  as 
I  would,  I  could  not  gain.  In  desperation,  in 
despair,  I  struck  my  horse  again  and  again  with 
the  weapon  I  clutched.  I  called  and  cursed  after 
the  men. 

And  then  came  the  crowning  act  of  Douglass' 
life — some  may  call  it  the  crowning  folly,  some 
the  crowning  glory.  Just  before  Mexican  Pedro's 
house  he  swerved,  and  brought  his  horse,  Duke, 
to  a  plunging  stand.  The  girl,  drawn  as  were  a 
score  of  other  villagers  to  their  doors  by  the 
clatter  of  our  ride,  had  stepped  out  upon  the 
ground.  D'Urville  and  I  swept  on,  carried  by 
the  impetuous  rush  of  our  animals.  By  the  time 
I  had  pulled  round  and  galloped  back,  I  beheld 
Douglass  stooping  in  his  stirrups  and,  wounded 
and  broken  in  body  as  he  was,  swinging  her  up  in 


340      THE    PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

his  arms,  where  he  pressed  her  lips  to  his.  Then, 
he  set  her  down,  whirled  Duke  about,  and  trium- 
phantly faced  me. 

"Aha,  I've  had  my  kiss;  now,  for  my  shot!" 
he  cried.  "You,  Maitland,  are  booked  for  a 
passage  to  hell !  " 

The  thunder  of  the  posse  galloping  down  the 
street  grew  louder.  Yet  he  barely  turned  his 
head  while  speaking,  listened  and  smiled.  But,  at 
the  same  instant,  came  an  interruption  which 
neither  he  nor  I  had  counted  on.  The  sharp  re- 
port of  a  Winchester  cracked  west  of  us.  One  of 
the  deputies  shot  from  his  saddle  as  he  rode,  and 
Duke  shivered,  as  if  with  cold,  and  dropped  sud- 
denly on  his  side,  dead. 

Only  by  a  quick  spring  did  the  Scotchman  save 
himself  from  being  pinned  under  the  fallen  ani- 
mal, a  spring  upon  his  shattered  leg.  What  it 
cost  him  in  pain  I  knew  by  the  white  twisting  of 
his  face.  He  licked  his  lips  once,  looked  at  me 
covering  him  with  my  six-shooter,  looked  up  and 
across  the  street,  where  his  negligent  guards  were 
running  toward  us  from  the  house  in  which  he 
had  been  imprisoned,  gazed  up  at  the  dozen  rid- 
ing officers,  and  then  turned  and  took  a  step 
toward  the  door  of  Pedro's  cabin,  his  teeth  set, 
and  his  broken  leg  dragging.  But  the  agony  was 
too  much  for  him,  and  he  gave  up. 

"  The  game  is  over,  Douglass,"  I  said. 


AT  THE   END   OF  THE   STREET    341 

"  Yes,"  he  answered. 

"You  had  best  surrender  at  once." 

"No!" 

With  quick,  hot  hatred,  he  spoke  the  word,  at 
the  same  time  flinging  up  his  pistol  and  firing. 
The  bullet  went  wide;  he  laughed,  and  let  the 
weapon  fall,  while  I  steadily  held  him  covered. 
The  Mexican  girl  flung  herself  before  him,  her 
body  a  shield.  All  her  strange  passion,  all  her 
fierce  love,  was  in  the  act. 

"  You  shall  not  kill  him,"  she  said. 

"  No,  I'll  not  kill  him,"  I  answered. 

"  He  is  not  armed — see ! " 

She  pointed  at  his  weapon  on  the  ground,  and 
caught  his  hands  and  spread  them  wide. 

"I  see;  and  the  men  will  be  here  in  a  momenF 
to  take  him  prisoner." 

Douglass  again  turned  his  face  up  the  street, 
frowning. 

"  Kiss  me,  Inez,"  he  said  finally.  "  And  when 
you  have,  then  get  me  a  bandage.  My  knee  is 
cracked." 

She  kissed  him,  and  turned  to  enter  the  house, 
while  he  looked  once  more  with  anxious  eyes  at 
the  approaching  posse.  I  laid  my  weapon  on  my 
pommel,  and  wiped  the  sweat  from  my  brow ;  one 
minute  more,  I  thought,  and  he  would  be  under 
guard. 

With  the  most  marvellously  rapid  movement  of 


342       THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

its  kind  that  I  have  ever  seen,  he  stooped,  caught 
up  the  revolver,  and  fired  straight  at  me,  at  the 
same  time  trying  to  run  to  my  horse  and  seize  it. 
The  bullet  grazed  my  scalp.  What  the  difference 
of  half  an  inch  lower  in  its  line  would  have  meant 
in  my  affairs,  I  do  not  like  to  consider,  even  at 
this  day. 

"Drop  it!"  I  ordered. 

His  eyes  never  left  mine,  a  smile  hardened  his 
face  to  a  mask. 

"  That  was  near,"  said  he. 

"  Drop  it,  or  I  shoot !  "  I  cried. 

"  Do  you  wish  your  old  pal  to  dangle  from  a 
gibbet?  Well,  you're  to  be  rarely  disappointed, 
friend  Maitland ! " 

He  pricked  up  his  ears,  and  listened.  Out  of 
the  rim  of  darkness  came  wailing  his  name. 

"Why,  there's  good  old  D'Urville,  yet,"  he 
laughed.  "What  a  fool  he  is  to  hang  on  out 
there,  waiting! " 

A  twinge  of  pain  in  his  side  gave  a  new  turn 
to  his  thoughts,  and  he  uttered  a  curse  or  two. 

"  Drop  your  weapon,  Douglass,"  I  said,  for  the 
last  time. 

"  If  I  were  only  in  the  house,  I  could  last  it  out 
a  bit  longer;  but  I  venture  to  say  here's  where  I 
leave  the  world.  Damn  you,  Maitland,  you've 
spoiled  a  nice  basket  of  eggs  I " 


AT  THE   END   OF  THE   STREET    343 

He  deliberately  pulled  back  the  hammer  of  his 
revolver,  still  smiling  as  he  did  it.  The  posse  was 
now  near  at  hand,  coming  rapidly.  And,  by 
Heaven,  the  man  courted  death!  For  the  space 
of  a  second,  he  waited;  then,  at  the  instant  he 
flung  up  his  hand  to  shoot,  the  foremost  deputy 
fired  again. 

I  could  have  believed  that  he  missed  him  clean. 
For  Douglass  continued  to  rest  on  his  sound  foot, 
smiling  and  pointing  his  pistol  at  me.  But,  all  at 
once,  he  let  go  the  gun,  and  clutched  his  breast, 
swayed,  and  sank  upon  the  ground,  catching  and 
supporting  himself  on  an  elbow  as  he  fell,  with 
his  chin  on  his  bosom. 

Out  of  the  night  and  the  darkness  came,  once 
more,  that  wailing  call,  like  the  cry  of  a  night 
bird: 

"  Frederic !     Frederic ! " 

Inez  ran  from  the  door,  and  caught  him  in  her 
arms,  and  laid  him  back  with  his  head  on  her 
shoulder.  The  troop  of  riders  pounded  up,  pulling 
rein,  and  forming  a  half  circle  about  us,  their 
horses  blowing  hard. 

No  word  was  needed  to  explain  to  the  men  what 
had  happened,  and  they  sat  by,  silent,  rugged,  and 
observant. 

After  a  little  time,  Douglass  opened  his  eyes. 
They  wandered  mistily  about  from  one  form  to 


344      THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

another  in  the  ring  surrounding  him,  until,  at  last, 
they  settled  on  me. 

"  This  is  a  fuddled  ending,  Maitland,"  he  said, 
with  a  white  shadow  of  his  old  smile  upon  his  lips. 
"How  have  you  worked  this  miracle,  man? " 

He  slipped  farther  down  upon  the  earth,  twitch- 
ing his  brows  restlessly,  as  if  in  pain,  and  flung 
back  his  head  across  the  girl's  arm.  So  he  lay  a 
while  staring  up  at  her,  as  she  wept  softly. 

"No  greetin',  lass,"  he  said,  in  Scotch;  and  so 
he  died,  though  we  knew  not  when  the  spirit  left 
its  body. 

From  far  up  on  the  hillside  a  bullet  whined  past 
us,  spent  with  distance.  I  awoke  to  the  fact  that 
work  yet  remained. 

"There  is  the  other,"  I  said,  pointing  into  the 
darkness. 

"A  night  run  is  a  blind  run,"  the  sheriff  an- 
swered. 

Nevertheless,  wheeling  about,  they  galloped 
away  on  the  hunt  for  D'Urville.  The  villagers 
who  had  gathered,  crowded  up  in  the  space  the 
officers  had  filled,  awed  at  the  rapid  flight  and  en- 
counter. I  sat  looking  down  at  the  girl,  and  the 
inanimate  form  which  she  supported,  recalling, 
one  by  one,  his  crimes  and  villainies. 

Ah,  he  had  had  both  his  last  shot  and  his  last 
kiss! 


CHAPTER  XXV 

STILL  WATERS 

WITH  a  last  glance  at  the  scene,  I  turned  my 
horse  about,  passed  through  the  midst  of  the  on- 
lookers, and  went  at  a  walk  up  to  Forge  House. 
There  remained  in  my  mind  the  last  sight  of  the 
man's  face,  the  look  of  wonder  on  the  dying  coun- 
tenance that  Fortune  should  play  him  so  scurvy  a 
trick,  him  who,  till  now,  had  diced  with  danger, 
and  never  lost.  It  was  the  last  illumination  of 
that  strange  vanity  which  was  part  and  parcel  of 
the  man,  fibre  of  his  flesh,  and  marrow  of  his 
soul.  But  it  gave  me  no  tinge  of  regret — far  from 
it — for  he  had  been  a  base,  unscrupulous,  faith- 
breaking  scoundrel,  who  knew  not  the  meaning  of 
the  word  honour.  Indeed,  now  that  he  was  dead, 
I  experienced  a  sense  of  lightness,  of  calm  security, 
such  as  had  been  unknown  to  me  for  days. 

On  the  road,  I  met  Woodworth,  and,  a  little 
way  behind  him,  Mr.  Fenton,  both  hurrying  to 
the  village;  and,  on  the  steps  whither  they  re- 
turned with  me,  I  found  the  others. 

"He  is  dead,"  I  said. 

345 


346       THE    PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

"Thank  God!"  Mr.  Fenton  responded. 
"Thank  God  for  that!" 

"He  escaped  a  felon's  reward,  and  he  died 
with  the  same  careless  assurance  he  showed  while 
living.  Well,  he  might  have  expected  to  die  in 
some  such  fashion,"  I  concluded.  And  I  swung 
down  from  my  horse,  and  we  all  went  into  the 
house. 

How  Douglass  escaped  from  the  house  in  which 
he  was  confined  we  learned  later.  D'Urville,  with 
the  appearance  of  a  deserter,  had,  in  fact,  only 
withdrawn  a  little  way  off  into  the  hills,  where 
he  lay  hidden  during  the  day,  and  whence  he 
came  under  cover  of  night  back  into  the  town. 
He  joined  the  Mexican  girl,  and  the  rescue  was 
contrived  between  them. 

Inez,  with  a  resolution  born  of  love,  succeeded 
in  attracting  the  attention  of  the  guards  for  a  mo- 
ment, while  the  Frenchman  put  his  cunning  fingers 
to  picking  the  lock — play  for  them — and  released 
the  prisoner.  Then  the  men  slipped  the  bolt  again 
into  its  socket  to  carry  out  the  deception.  Out  of 
the  house  and  concealed  in  the  shadow,  the  rest 
was  easy  for  them  to  accomplish.  They  made 
for  Forge  House,  leaving  the  cage  empty  behind 
them,  and  its  keepers  none  the  wiser.  Indeed, 
the  latter  did  not  learn  that  the  prisoner  was 
missing  until  they  saw  him  and  D'Urville  racing 
down  the  street. 


STILL   WATERS  347 

When  the  pair  came  to  the  knoll,  the  French- 
man brought  up  his  horse  from  the  place  where 
he  had  concealed  it,  and  made  his  companion's, 
Duke,  ready,  while  Douglass  descended  into  the 
cellar  to  secure  the  gold  which  he  had  been 
systematically  stealing.  That  they  should  thus 
coolly  proceed  to  execute  the  plan  so  long  held  in 
hand,  when  common  adventurers  would  have  been 
content  to  make  off  on  the  instant,  shaking  in  their 
saddles,  marked  the  desperate  character  of  the 
men.  Liberty  did  not  suffice  them;  they  must 
have  the  gold  as  well. 

Any  minute  Douglass'  escape  might  be  discov- 
ered, any  minute  the  hue  and  cry  might  be  raised 
after  them;  but  they  calculated  the  risk,  and  would 
not  abandon  a  grain  of  the  prize  for  which  they 
had  played  long  and  daringly.  The  accidental 
hearing  of  Douglass  in  the  cellar  by  Nashimi,  our 
Japanese  servant,  alone  had  wrecked  their 
scheme. 

Our  party  must  have  the  whole  story  of  Doug- 
lass' dying,  accepting  no  refusal;  and  for  half 
an  hour  I  had  to  turn  story-teller,  and  give  them 
an  account  of  the  struggle  in  the  vault,  our  wild 
ride,  and  the  final  exchange  of  shots.  And,  while 
I  talked,  my  nerves  grew  more  and  more  on  edge, 
my  story  difficult,  and  my  mind  uneasy.  When  I 
was  done,  Charlie  brought  me  the  decanter  and 
a  glass. 


348      THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

'"You're  restless  as  a  cat,"  said  he.  "Try 
some  of  this." 

I  laughed,  took  the  drink  which  he  poured  out, 
then  started  even  as  I  held  it  to  my  lips. 

"  Maitland,  you're  quaking  at  shadows,"  Mr. 
Arlington  remarked ;  "  and  that,  too,  when  every- 
thing is  over." 

"It's  not  shadows,"  I  answered. 

"What  is  it?"  Mr.  Fenton  inquired. 

I  drained  the  liquor,  and  frowned.  "  I'm  afraid 
of  another  ghost,"  I  replied. 

For  what  was  worrying  me  was  that  while 
these  good  people  crowded  round  and  would  not 
let  me  go,  there  lay  down  on  the  floor  of  the 
•fourth  room  of  the  cellar  a  round,  flat,  heavy 
sack.  In  the  sack  was  some  fifty  thousand  dollars' 
worth  of  gold  ingots  and  dust.  It  lay  there  on 
the  ground,  plain  to  any  eye  that  looked,  and  free 
to  any  hand  that  itched.  Whom  might  not  curi- 
osity lead  to  poking  about  down  there  ?  The  outer 
basement  doors  stood  wide  open.  Were  not  serv- 
ants often  thievish?  Ours  might  be  that,  and 
more.  And,  yes,  might  not  D'Urville,  himself, 
come  flitting  back  through  the  darkness,  like  a 
bat,  to  get  it? 

"  I  must  be  excused  for  a  moment,"  I  said. 

"There's  no  more  trouble?"  one  of  them 
asked. 


STILL  WATERS  349 

"No;  but  there  may  be  if  I  linger  here.  Doug- 
lass' bag  of  gold  is  lying  down  there,  unpro- 
tected." And  I  pointed  through  the  floor. 

"  His  gold !  "  they  cried. 

"  Yes,  what  he  came  for  when  I  found  him." 

So  down  I  went,  with  Charlie  and  the  whole 
household  at  my  heels. 

This  time,  the  vaults  were  lighted  by  the  incan- 
descents.  There  on  the  ground  lay  the  candle, 
and,  in  the  middle  of  the  floor,  the  heavy  sack, 
just  where  Douglass  had  dropped  it  at  my  com- 
mand. The  ladies  gathered  their  skirts  about 
them,  and  peered  at  it  with  fascinated  eyes. 

I  picked  up  the  candle.  "  See,  he  was  afraid 
the  lamps  would  betray  him  through  the  windows. 
He  had  this.  Those  three  bottles  held  the  gold 
dust,  and  out  of  the  bottle  yonder  he  was  drink- 
ing wine." 

I  smiled,  and  looked  about  the  room.  Its  walls 
seemed  to  exhale  his  presence,  as  if  directly  he 
would  step  from  behind  a  pillar,  to  advance  into 
our  midst  the  same  old  careless,  mocking  Doug- 
lass. 

"  Let  us  go,"  Ethys  whispered,  with  a  shiver. 

I  lifted  the  sack,  and,  heavy  as  it  was,  bore  it 
quickly  out  and  up  the  stair,  through  the  house, 
and  into  the  office.  How  the  two  thieves  would 
have  carried  away  such  a  weight,  I  could  hardly 


350      THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

guess,  though,  possibly,  they  planned  to  bury  it, 
and  return  at  a  later  and  safer  day.  By  dividing 
it  between  them,  they  might  even  have  won  away; 
yet  even  that  was  doubtful.  I  dropped  the  bag 
on  the  floor  by  the  safe;  out  of  its  steel  box  the 
precious  metal  had  come;  into  it  it  would  go 
again.  Only  the  gold  which  Douglass  had  de- 
livered to  Merry  Mac  as  ransom,  and  which  the 
Frenchman  had  secured,  was  missing — a  tidy  sum, 
ten  thousand  dollars. 

"With  it  in  D'Urville's  saddlebags,  we  can 
count  on  its  being  gone  for  good,"  I  said.  "  I 
hope  it  will  weigh  him  down  like  a  millstone." 

"Yes;  though,  before  the  rascal  is  captured,  he 
will  probably  have  hidden  it." 

I  opened  the  safe,  and  stowed  away  what  lay 
at  our  feet. 

"  Now,  I  must  report  to  my  princess,"  I  smiled; 
"that  I  have  all  that  was  lost,  save  what  Doug- 
lass, himself,  gave  away;  and  that  I  can  report 
my  stewardship  complete."  Which  I  did. 

"Let  the  Frenchman  ride  off  with  what  he 
has,"  Ethys  replied  to  me.  "What  do  I  care,  so 
long  as  I  have  you  safe?"  We  were  alone,  and 
her  arms  were  about  my  neck.  "  Yes,  let  him  go. 
I  hope  never  to  see  either  him  or  that  gold  again." 
'  The  chances  are  very  slim  of  finding  either, 
dear." 


STILL  WATERS  351 

In  this,  I  calculated  correctly.  The  town,  full 
of  excitement  over  the  tragedy,  the  coming  of  the 
sheriff's  posse,  and  the  escape  of  D'Urville,  waited 
into  the  early  morning  hours  for  news  of  the  lat- 
ter's  capture.  Toward  daylight,  the  officers  rode 
into  Forge  empty-handed;  their  pursuit,  if  so 
blind  a  scramble  over  the  mountains  could  be 
called  such,  had  not  taken  them  within  sight  of 
the  fugitive. 

Everything  was  in  the  man's  favour.  His  start, 
though  short,  was  as  good  as  a  mile,  because  of 
the  darkness  and  the  long  hours  to  dawn.  A  thou- 
sand ravines  opened  before  the  flying  French- 
man, a  thousand  peaks  among  which  he  might 
hide,  a  thousand  loopholes  through  which  he 
might  steal  away. 

After  an  hour's  rest  and  a  hearty  meal,  the 
sheriff  and  his  posse  saddled  fresh  horses,  and 
dashed  away  on  their  return  to  Cold  Springs, 
where  they  would  set  the  wires  humming  in  every 
direction  about  the  country,  in  the  hope  of  taking 
D'Urville  in  their  net. 

Forge  lent  itself  to  another  matter.  Did  Doug- 
lass' spirit  look  down  upon  the  funeral  procession 
which  accompanied  his  body  to  the  grave,  that 
morning?  If  so,  it  doubtless  rejoiced  with  that 
gratification,  that  vain  satisfaction,  which  had 
been  so  indispensable  to  it  on  earth.  Brooking 


352       THE    PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

no  rivalry  in  life,  it  led  undisputed  in  death.  His 
cold-smiling  lips  seemed  to  bespeak  this  final 
achievement.  It  was  almost  a  triumph.  For 
Forge,  save  one  pallid,  dry-eyed  girl,  sitting  at 
her  father's  house  alone,  the  girl  who  had  held 
him  at  the  last,  followed  en  masse  f  as  if  he  yet  ex- 
ercised the  charm  which  had  proven  so  potent 
with  them  in  days  gone  by.  Some  walked  with 
wonder  writ  large  on  their  faces,  unable  to  grasp 
the  truth;  some  moved  in  a  sort  of  stupefaction 
that  so  much  wickedness  could  have  been  bound 
up  in  one  frail  form  of  flesh;  and  some  were,  I 
think,  dragged  after  the  corpse  by  a  strange,  ir- 
resistible attachment  for  the  man,  which  neither 
knowledge  of  his  crimes  nor  their  own  will  could 
break.  And  so  vanished  Douglass,  who  had  for 
the  last  time  flung  down  his  gauntlet  at  the  foot 
of  Fate. 

With  the  conclusion  of  this  sombre  duty,  a 
fresh  breath  had  swept  the  canon,  were  it  to  be 
judged  by  the  altered  faces  of  the  people.  On  the 
road  back  to  town,  heads  were  lifted,  steps  quick- 
ened, while  cheerful  words  ran  from  mouth  to 
mouth.  Already,  they  planned  resuming  work  in 
the  placer. 

I  alighted  at  the  door  of  Forge  House,  and 
went  into  the  office,  where  I  flung  myself  down 
in  a  chair  with  an  odd  depression  of  spirits.  Idle- 


STILL   WATERS  353 

ness  was  new.  So  much  had  happened,  so  much 
either  to  wreck  or  to  right  me,  the  Scotchman's 
plots  and  hidden  schemes  had  kept  me  so  con- 
stantly on  the  alert,  that  I  now  looked  about 
with  a  dull  emptiness  of  purpose.  Until  now,  I 
knew  not  how  much  I  missed  Douglass. 

Here  Ethys  came  looking  for  me. 

"Ah!  Jack,"  she  said,  with  her  hands  tight  in 
mine,  "you  can  never  know  how  my  heart  cried 
out  for  you  during  your  wild  ride." 

I  looked  into  her  tender  eyes. 

"  I  think  I  know  a  little.  I  know  how  the  dear- 
est heart  in  all  the  world  stood  up  before  Forge 
and  spoke  for  my  life." 

"  That  is  nothing  to  what  I  shall  do  for  love  of 
you " 

"  It  was  more  precious  than  all  the  gold  that 
the  canon  holds,"  I  smiled. 

"  I  would  have  spoken  to  the  world  itself,  if 
necessary,"  she  replied  stoutly.  "  Yet,  what  I  said 
was  unnecessary — you  had  Gurley  locked  up  all 
the  while  in  waiting." 

'Your  story  is  what  made  the  people  be- 
lieve his."  I  caught  her  in  my  arms.  "Oh, 
sweetheart,  I  love  you  as  never  man  loved  be- 
fore!" 

"  And  you,  Jack,"  she  answered  caressingly,  "  I 
love  you — love  you!  See,  I  cling  to  you,  for  I 


354      THE    PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

love  you  as  the  stars  love.     Kiss  me,  my — rny 
prince." 

Love — magic  word!  Love  that  is  so  great  a 
thing  that  it  makes  all  else  little;  love  that  is  so 
great  a  thing  that  it  makes  beyond  price  the 
voice  it  inspires,  and  the  heart  it  quickens;  love 
that  lays  a  halo  on  the  dear  head  beloved  and 
kindles  a  divine  fire  in  the  soul  it  touches;  love 
wed  our  lips  in  bliss  and  our  lives  for  eternity ! 

A  single  word  in  postscript.  One  afternoon, 
the  next  autumn,  Ethys  and  I  stood  before  a 
florist's  window  in  New  York,  when  Charlie 
Woodworth's  cheery  voice  hailed  us.  He  came 
up,  smilingly,  and  raised  his  tall,  shiny  hat. 

"Where  do  you  think  I  saw  somebody  this 
morning,  and  who  do  you  think  it  was?"  he  in- 
quired. 

"  On  the  boat,  and  Betty,"  said  Ethys. 

"  Well,  yes ;  but  that  was  not  whom  I  meant," 
Charlie  confessed,  blushing  a  little,  "  though  that's 
how  it  happened."  He  spoke  somewhat  con- 
fusedly. "  You  see,  I  went  down  to  say  good-bye 
to  Betty,  and  her  father,  and  take  her  some 
flowers  and  books  and  the  like,  for " 

"  Betty  is  one  of  the  nicest  girls  in  New  York," 
Ethys  interrupted  pointedly ;  "  the  very  nicest,  and 
you  are  growing  quite  old  enough." 


STILL  WATERS  355 

"Yes,  she  is,"  Charlie  agreed  submissively; 
"but  what  does  she  want  to  run  away  down  to 
Cuba  for?  Just  because  her  father  happens  to  be 
a  minister,  or  a  diplomat  extraordinary,  or  some- 
thing equally  splendid,  is  no  reason  why  she 
shouldn't  stay  at  home,  by  my  thinking.  Well, 
I'm  not  telling  my  story.  When  our  good-byes 
were  spoken,  and  the  last  warning  sounded,  I 
went  for  the  gang  plank  in  a  hurry,  my  time  being 
cut  rather  fine.  On  the  way  down,  I  bumped  into 
a  gentleman  whom  I  somehow  overlooked.  I 
begged  his  pardon,  caught  a  peep  at  his  face,  and 
stopped  dead  in  my  tracks. 

"'D'Urville!'  I  shouted. 

"'Ah!  Have  we  met  somewhere,  monsieur?' 
he  asked,  bowing. 

"  'At  Forge — you  know  well  enough,'  I  said. 

"  'Ah !  Forge,  the  iron  immense.  A  smithy,  is 
it  not,  monsieur?  No,  I  know  not  that  Forge.' 

"My  time  was  short;  I  spoke  plainly. 

" '  You  are  a  fat  liar ! '  I  said. 

" '  Oh,  monsieur,  you  speak  in  greatness  of 
haste,'  he  said.  'Aha!  Yet  have  I  seen  your 
long  legs,  your  such  long  legs,  oui,  your  name  is 
Woodworth.  I  recall,  I  remember,  you  are  the 
gargon  in  Mascalle's  cafe,  yes?'  He  felt  in  his 
pocket,  and  pulled  out  a  dime,  the  impudent  rascal. 
'A  pourboire,  a  teep,  yes,'  and  held  it  out  to  me. 


356      THE   PRINCESS   OF   FORGE 

"  Well,  I  couldn't  stay  longer  to  give  him  a 
piece  of  my  mind.  As  it  was,  I  made  the  pier 
only  by  a  jump.  I'm  going  to  cable  the  authorities 
to  arrest  and  hold  him  until  he  can  be  returned." 

"Indeed?  That  is  a  South  American  liner,"  I 
said.  "  Perhaps  you're  not  aware,  Charlie,  that 
we've  no  extradition  laws  with  the  country  to 
which  he's  going." 

"  The  deuce  we've  not !  " 

"No." 

"Then  he'll  continue  to  run  loose?" 

"I  fear  so." 

"  Why,  if  that's  the  case,  I  wish  I'd  gone  along 
with  Betty!  "  he  exclaimed.  "  What  do  you  think 
the  scamp  shouted  as  I  ran  down  the  gang 
plank?" 

"What?"  I  asked. 

"  'Aha,  you  and  your  Maitland  I  will  see 
again!'" 

Thus  we  had  our  last  news  of  Douglass'  com- 
panion, that  portly,  placid  gentleman,  D'Urville. 
Would  we  ever  see  him  again,  as  he  declared? 
Well,  at  any  rate,  he  had  not  yet  paid  for  his 
sins.  May  he  sweat  for  them  beneath  the  tropic 
sun! 


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